


with your ink, paint a spiral

by Anonymous



Category: Extracurricular Activities (Visual Novel)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Accidental Discovery of Soulbonds, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Consent Issues, Emotional Baggage, Kink Exploration, Late Night Conversations, M/M, OT3, Past Abuse, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "These are your own wordsyour way of noticingand saying plainlyof not turning awayfrom hurtyou have offered themto me       I am onlygiving them backif only I could show youhow very uselessthey are not."—Bird-Understander, Craig Arnold.-For Darius, soulmates are laughable, a joke, even. But when he gets to know the younger brother of his English work partner, he starts to feel like something else connects them. And that, combined with the suspicions that the boy has another soulmate, end up twisting the truth for Darius.Love isn't, at the end of the day, something to fear.
Relationships: Darius Maynor (Extracurricular Activities)/Dozer Dozer (Extracurricular Activities)/Kazuto Miki (OC)
Kudos: 2
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Canon has been taken out back and shot in the head. Please be wary.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> both Kazuto and Darius have their lives introduced to us.

"How, in the entire history of the world, did you avoid the number one rule of soulmates?" A blonde girl speaks, gesturing to the sky, or whatever.

It's not like Kazuto can tell from that, he's not paying much attention, if he can be honest. 

"I dunno, Chloe. I never thought about it. Things like that are not that clear to me."

He turns around to look at something else, the window is more than enough, but the girl is not having it for today. It's barely seven AM, and no one else is in the classroom, except those two.

"Oh, no, bitch," she grabs his face by the cheeks, and makes Kazuto look at her, "look, Kaz... I love you and everything, but this is just stupid. I can't even... I just, I don't..."

"You don't understand it, right?" He asks, looking straight past her. 

"Yeah. It's, it's impossible, is what I'm saying." 

Chloe sighs, and just from that, Kazuto averts his gaze. He's trying to look at the window, but at seven AM there aren't many interesting things, except the drawings he can make while having this conversation. Which, by the way, he doesn't want to have.

"The idea never came to me, you know? Besides, it's not like I just decided to, you know, not write anything as a test, I did, but I don't think I can confirm that I'm not a Receiver."

"Kaz, the fact that you could write means that you're not a Receiver. Everyone knows that."

"Sure, if by everyone, you mean...everyone except me. Don't you think that might be the problem?"

Chloe's back in the game, this time, in the defensive.

"Don't. Just, don't. Okay? That's a shitty excuse, like, I've seen better excuses from you."

"Do I disappoint you with that one, but not with I'm sorry, but I have to go for completely unrelated reasons... Strange."

Kazuto places a hand near his mouth, yet he doesn't have the strength to look away from her. It's a game, this conversation, he wants to pull, she wants to push. Whoever wins this one determines... What, precisely? It's strange. That's all Kazuto knows about Chloe.

"It's, it's not that. Kaz, you don't know anything about the implications of that, do you?"

Kazuto shakes his head. Chloe is sighing again, and places her hand on top of her nose bridge.

He can only smile back, like a dog who shits on the carpet.

"Guess that means you'll make me watch romantic movies about soulmates, right?" He makes himself smaller, curving his back and lowering his head. The worst thing about this, is that he's right, he's so hopelessly right.

The response he gets is different. She lights up like a Christmas tree, full smile.

"Oh, Kaz, you have no idea of how much I waited for this... No idea."

"So that means I'll have to stay until 4? Or that means we'll be leaving ballet class earlier?"

Chloe ignores him, and starts to giggle. If someone else were to see her, she would look like an absolute maniac. And they would run away from her, while she has a cleaver in hand. Then everything would be bloody, and he'd be the one at fault. That, or an epic fight on top of the school's rooftop while the full moon shines.

Maybe he should stop reading Cicada's Cry. That might be for the best.

And now Chloe's looking at him. Should he run? It's the look on her face that makes him think that.

"Say, you're not against watching a movie? Or two?"

Oh, no.

Oh, no. This is... Well, not bad. Chloe's not bad company, it's just... He can't explain anything right now, please come back after the next plot point has been resolved so he can collect his thoughts.

"Crappy movies in Chloe's house after sch-", he writes in the last page of his notebook, unaware of the red ink on his hand as he finishes and prepares for the first class of the day.

* * *

Darius can't help but look at his hands. It's the third time he's looking at it. There's nothing. It's like an itch when he's not paying attention to his hand, it burns and Darius can't avoid scratching his hand.

It's only when he sees the Coach, frowning, that he refrains from saying anything. Darius smiles, apologetic. He'll pay for it later, if he keeps this up. And Darius was so close to learning what the message was.

Coach clears his throat. 

"I suppose you received a message from your soulmate. You might want to wait for the class to finish if you really want to see it." 

Darius replies immediately, like he knows the script.

"Eh, it's fine, Coach. Just had the itch to see what I wrote."

That seems to satisfy him, as he shakes his head and keeps the lesson going.

He still feels the need to see what the hell is on his hand. But, as soon as he catches a glimpse, the message disappears, erased. A mistake, maybe? This happens, as far as he can tell. But...

Why? Why the need for this? He doesn't even know the person who's writing these messaged. Are they supposed to be his soulmate? How does that work? 

Coach's voice snaps him out of it. Darius grabs a pen, and writes on the notebook, while quickly doodling something for whoever is on the other side. 

"And remember, you'll need to work in groups for the presentation, no need for me to make them, as you're already acquainted with each other," Coach moves towards his desk and grabs a marker, jotting down the specifics of the assignment, "and you're making groups of three people, no more. And certainly not less than that."

Darius smirks. God, something easy, finally. It's a gift from whichever god felt more merciful this day. Maybe the prayers he never does paid off. He can ask Eric or Spencer to see if they already have their group missing the usual spot he takes.

It's been like this since the first time. Spencer asks Eric if he wants to be with him in the assignment, and Eric asks him, and then the three of them have fun at Critical Strike or hang out for a few hours before Eric goes home and then they remember that no one did anything and Spencer ends up revealing that he did the whole work-

Except for this time, it seems.

Almost everyone has a group, and full. Shit. Shit.

He knows there's someone else in this classroom, who doesn't have a partner. But, as he sees the place, anyone he knows (because of the tennis team or because of his multiple hook-ups) is already full.

Well. There's only one girl. But, thing is, she's not here. Or maybe it's fair to say that she's here, but not mentally.

Rose Black. As cheesy as her name sounds, she's the most absent-minded student he's ever had the pleasure (or not, she doesn't have a dick, which makes her forgettable in his eyes) of meeting. Girl can't keep herself concentrated during a lecture. As of now, she's typing something on her phone. And, as an added surprise, Rose doesn't have her purple glitter pen in her mouth.

It'll be fine if he asks her, right? Maybe she's secretly a Spencer type of student (good grades, nice family, good looks, he can tell, you know, he's not blind, just... interested in the male figure), and he could score something on the meantime.

Darius grabs his stuff, and goes straight to her desk, not forgetting to tap his fingers to alert her.

She reacts, thank God.

"Hey, just wondering if you wanted to do the assignment with me, seeing as you're all alone..." He trails off, as he flashes her one of his best smiles.

And she replies with one of hers. The fool...

"Ok. Fine with you to hang out in my house? I have an idea of what to do."

Now, that makes him wonder for a bit. Even with his reputation, he notices that some girls look at him with the same expression as they look at Spencer, but this one... She doesn't look at him in the eyes, even. Is she that much of an airhead? 

As for the house situation, he's almost raising an eyebrow at that. If they're not asking him for his number, nor a ride in his car, then they're asking to see his place.

"And you can do it in mine, because?" He stretches for a few seconds the because in his sentence. His arm doesn't itch, and he can't tell if it's good or not.

A short beat follows. Rose looks at Darius as if he grew a third head.

"I can't fail. Simple as that. The idea I had, I must do it in my home, otherwise I get to bring extra equipment to your house."

"Extra equipment, huh? And what about it?"

Rose is taking her time to answer. It's normal, by this point. When the Coach asks her a question, she mulls over it by putting her hands close to her mouth. Just like in this moment.

"Do you want me to bring my brother there? Are you serious about that?"

Huh.

* * *

Maybe, by this point, Chloe will give up and leave him alone. This is the second movie he's watching, and he's not having it. There's too much romance and not enough drama. He isn't hoping for a zombie apocalypse to break out, but well, if one happened in one of these sorry attempts at a movie, he would be way more interested in that.

Aside from the fact that his friend brought her own soulmate to rub some ice and salt on the wound. If there's a wound, in the first place. Kazuto wonders about that. If he puts some salt on top of an ice cube, would it hurt him?

He has to test that out soon.

"Here comes my favorite scene, Kaz. Better prepare, because the waterworks are coming!"

The cheerful tone betrays any kind of feeling he might have by watching this movie. Dear God, how can Chloe's soulmate stand this for a whole day? He's been sitting on the floor for three hours and he feels as if everything went through his brain. Like, poof. And then there were none.

Wet sounds, like those that people hear when there's a couple about to make out in five seconds, are the first and only thing that is starting to tick him off. He feels his eye twitching. The movie is going on and on about a man trying to get back his soulmate. So far, the man still says cheesy stuff to sweet talk her into staying back with him.

Even if he wants Chloe to enjoy that, he can't help but to ruin it by making one of his best acting roles: the Grinch ruining Christmas, Valentine's and your Birthday.

"They're not gonna last long," he says, pointing towards the guy, who's making a lot of grand gestures that say nothing about his emotional change, "just look at the way he's just spouting bullshit. He didn't learn anything..."

"Kaz, don't start."

Chloe stares back at him. She's frowning. Sweaty because of the saliva exchange, and a bit red on the cheeks due to her hormones. Her gaze is unfocused, like she's looking beyond him, but still keeping him in the frame.

"I wanna start. It's fun."

Sounds a lot like complaining, and it is, but it's the only thing he feels like doing.

"Chloe's right. Just because you're lonely and angry—"

"Monica..." Chloe's tone is lower than usual. She's not even looking at him, focusing on her girlfriend.

"You know what I'm saying! We both know that he's a killjoy..."

"I'm not even taking offense to that."

"Yeah, but... Moni," Chloe rolls over to where her soulmate is, and grabs her hand, full of white ink, "we can't just leave him hanging in there. We should explain things to him."

"With movies, I assume? If you wanted to explain, you could just text me the details and l would have been happier."

Monica is about to stand up, but Chloe stops her.

"You know? Doing this is ridiculous."

Monica grabs the control and turns off the TV. It leaves the room in a tender silence that's been disturbed, like a scratch record sound effect in the middle of a recap in a pretty good show about the 60s. Or the 70s? He can't tell, but this is one of those moments where the music stops in the stories.

"Look. We already went over the whole soulmate thing, but we didn't explain some stuff that might help."

Kazuto raises his hand, still acting like he's in a classroom. Well, he kinda is. Chloe's room looks exactly like the freshman's classroom. Instincts kick in when you're in a familiar place.

"How about we start with the whole Writer and Receiver thing?"

Maybe, just maybe, he can have a decent explanation given to him, instead of the whole bullshit spiel about atoms being close together.

* * *

His house is empty as he enters. Darius just leaves his stuff on the couch and go to his room. This day just needs a nice, slow fuck to be considered a good day. But either fate or God or whatever his parents believed in decided that he's not having any today.

The phone starts to ring, and his skin starts to burn, as if rage dominated his body. Yet, Darius finds himself answering.

"Hey, not in the best moment to call but—"

"Darius? Oh! Thank God. I didn't know if this number was yours, but..."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry for that."

He didn't give her his number. Which, in retrospect, sounds as idiotic as it sound appealing. Talking to someone who's not interested in sex is the last thing on his mind at this moment.

"Is tomorrow at four fine for you? I worried that your schedule would interfere, because I don't have anything on that day."

Great. From the studio, straight to someone else's house. Still, he's supposed to do at least some part of the job. 

He forgets to respond, caught up in the possibilities of being in someone else's house.

It always sounds like he's not talking about himself.

"Yeah, I'll go straight from the studio and then we'll see what happens. Want some food for the breaks we'll be making?"

He hears her laugh, and it's the kind of breathy, low laugh that she has to suppress. 

"I don't mind that, but don't forget to bring one more of everything you buy. Since, well, I'll have someone else here."

"Your brother?"

He doesn't hear much from her side, but it's so similar to a sigh.

"Hope you don't mind."

He puts his hand on his hip, while looking at one of the pictures in his living room. Granted, almost all of this place is a living room, but it's the only one that has a TV, so that's the living. 

He looks at the portrait on top of the chimney, it's simply a pop-art version of his face. Nothing spectacular, nor groundbreaking.

"Nah, it's just, ah, doesn't matter. Don't worry. He won't be bothering us."

And again, she laughs. 

"You said it," she says, while still recovering from the sudden attack of laughter that she had, "sorry, ah, I won't keep you for longer. Maybe we could talk later?"

And why would she say that? They didn't speak much. And none of their conversations are *that* interesting, spending time in the cafeteria while talking about their careers is just normal, so far removed that Darius can't tell why people love talking about it.

Yet, he finds himself smiling about it.

"I guess I'll call later."

He pushes the button, watching the empty house in front of him, and his smile disappears.

Playing some piano would help, he thinks, as he's taking steps to drown out the silence in this place.


	2. maybe on speaking terms?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuto gets a scare, and a car trip for the trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit tired, but here, the chapter is here! Feel free to correct me on anything and don't be afraid to comment, because I love it.

When he makes the next pirouette, he knows that he nails it. It's automatic, like those moments when the world aligns with the stars to give you a chance and you take it. Kazuto spins, letting his heart, and his arms, guide him. Connect to the music, let yourself free.

His heart beats faster, when there's a hand on his back, someone's holding him

He finishes a double tour en l'air, and he lands it. He keeps going. Another pirouette, a series of those. The music is long gone, but Kazuto can't stop. His hands, they're reaching out. Someone's there. A smile, and Kazuto does the same. A male face looks back, but he can't make the details. Taller than him, stronger than him, yet he's his shadow, walking behind him. 

But, when Kazuto tries again, he disappears, just from the same place. This time, he doesn't bother with another tour en l'air. He just goes with a series of pirouettes. One after the other, it's almost as if he's cutting the air. The ghost still smiles, encouraging him. He's waiting, waiting for him in the middle of the dark room. 

The music stopped for a while, but his heart is making another rhythm, deeper than the hands trying to pull him down.

Kazuto runs away from them, short steps, almost floating on the floor. Reach out, touch my hand, let me see the real you. I don't want to leave. He says that with his movements.

Noise. There's more noise, now.

The closer he is to the source, the higher the voices become. Screaming, pulling him apart, trying to keep him away from the man. 

Just as he's about to reach him, so close to his hand, the ghost leaves, like illusions and dreams do. A memory that sounds too vivid, yet it fades away like everything else. Kazuto falls, failing the last pirouette of the series. Fourteen, he gets to count. His hands touch the floor, it's cold. 

His muscles are sore, and Kazuto's muscle shirt is starting to stick to his skin, yet, he wants more. One more second, one more dance. He can't tell, but the shadow is too close to him, like someone he knows. But memory fails this time. 

The lights turn on, and he sees that his hands are red. A flick of a tail, is what he hears. Footsteps behind him. It's a pair of heels. 

He stands up. Too quickly. His vision blurs, but he's already getting used to this. It's practiced. His sister is here, but the tail... Kazuto starts to imagine who's the person with the heels. The rhythm of each step, and the time between each foot, it has to be his sister.

His heartbeat increases, because of this, someone he doesn't know, they're walking with her, but the words don't reach him, he's giving them his back. Idiot. Idiot. He can't turn around, otherwise they can see his face. He can't stay like that, either, or that someone might sneak behind and prank him. 

Kazuto stays with his back to the two of them, his breathing is uneven.

"Hey..." A hand on his shoulder. 

It's an instinctive reaction, but thank goodness he's capable of suppressing it. He grabs his hand before he gets to punch Rose. She's looking back with the same expression she had when his mother snuck up on him. But, the other person... They're (no, he's) surprised.

"Geez! I, I'm sorry, Kaz. Thought, I thought you'd be more aware of that."

It doesn't take him much time to calm down. His wrist is marked with his fingers, his strength being too much on them. His breathing evens out, and the sweat on his body feels fresh, rather than awful. His eyes roam everywhere, trying to find anything out of the ordinary, but outside of the lion, he doesn't see anything strange.

"Doesn't matter. Why are you here?" 

His hands relax, and his feet find themselves in the fifth position. Kazuto closes his eyes to concentrate. Has he seen him before? He can't remember a moment in specific, but he swears, just like he swears when a misplaced memory tries to pass itself off as a deja vu, that his face is familiar to him.

The lion behind her smiles, like the devil when he finds his next victim.

"You look like hell, are you sure you're okay, kid? You've seen a ghost over here?"

Kazuto replies with the truth, because fiction is a stranger to the real deal. He opens his eyes, and looks right through his face.

"Maybe. Now I'm asking the same to you, why are you here?"

A small silence, broken by Rose's voice and the lion's smirk.

"Kaz, we, uh, well, we came here to pick you up," she is the first one to talk of the two. She makes a gesture to point at the man, "Oh, and I forgot to introduce you guys. This is Darius Maynor, he's in my English class. Darius, this is my brother, Kazuto."

"Ah, I see. Sorry. Nice to meet you, though."

"Don't be, you must be fun in horror movies. Besides, there aren't many times I get to meet a dancer. Ever used that flexibilitiy for something" His tone is sly, almost as if he's trying to get a reaction out of him.

Rose smiles, and Kazuto replies.

"If by something you mean for sex, uh, I'm afraid not."

She turns to look back at him, "See? Outside of jumpscares, he's a stone!"

Now it's Kazuto who smiles. Do people forget he's here? Maybe that's the reason most of the important conversations happen with or without him. But really, she could use with some glasses.

"Now, now, I'm very much alive in here. It's just that..."

"It doesn't surprise you?" Darius seems to get it. Or maybe it's just that he's not really smart, and he goes for the low-hanging fruit in the tree.

"Yeah, that. Most of the guys ask me that. I dunno why, though."

He's lying, he knows, they explained that to him when he was a junior. Maybe he can flex on that for a bit, but the time factor is starting to get in his head. But, now that he thinks better of it, his sister might just scream and then snitch him, so that's that. 

The other two seem to be absent with something else. Darius looking at the dance studio, and Rose looking at him.

"Not to be a bother, but, what time is it?"

Rose checks her phone. As it lights up, her face falls, almost dissatisfied with this.

"Six. You won't have trouble, will you?"

Darius goes back to his smiling, almost-by-default self, and starts walking towards the door, Rose following behind him. And as he walks outside, to the empty halls of his school, it's the same ghost, the one he was seeing while he danced, but this time, they wave at him.

* * *

The ride is smooth. Music is blasting through the speakers, and this is one of the first times he brings someone else in his car that is not a guy he wants to fuck. The sun is trying to hide on the sky, behind skycrapers, and Darius needs to focus on what's in front of him.

"So, uh, tell me a bit about yourself."

"Like you don't know everything about me?" Darius is asking again, as he finds himself making a turn to the right. It's a familiar road, now that he thinks about it.

"Yeah, I want... Well, we might as well be on speaking terms for the assignment. Besides, I think we can have some sort of... camaraderie? Yeah, that must be the word." 

Darius doesn't reply immediately. Why would he? He's just driving these two back to their house. The only thing that he wins is that he'll know where to go for the next day. Yet, he keeps track of those two and what they're doing. Rose, on one hand, is mesmerized by the car's design to even do anything, it's the kid that worries him.

He's not moving a lot, and seems to breathe at least once per minute.

Is that bad?

Rose catches sight of him, due to the rear view mirror. 

"It's fine. He just goes to sleep when he's in any car. They tend to do that to him."

She doesn't pay him much attention, though. What if the kid drools on the car and it ruins the leather? It can ruin the leather, right?

They go over a bump on the road, and he startles, trying to make sense of where he is. Darius sees Kazuto trying to grab something to ground himself, yet he doesn't find anything that works quite well.

Silence. It doesn't stretch for as long as he thinks.

"Sorry."

"It's fine, just don't drool on the leather. I have strict policies to take care of my girl."

"That... Sounds quite nice, actually. You love this car?" Kazuto scoots a bit closer to the front seats, while trying to make sense of what's happening on the screen of his car. 

"Saying that is an understatement. This girl is my baby, and even I wouldn't dare to break my own rules for it."

"It shows a lot of you, now that I think about it..." Kazuto is looking at the window, seeing the car's go by like a blur, "Maybe you should slow down for a bit. This part of the city is always nice to see."

"Like anyone cares about watching plebeian lives."

Kazuto chuckles, and he can hear how he starts to laugh at the joke.

"I assume you do. You can't be always in a scarlet dungeon. You would become crazy."

"My brother's right. As long as you see what's happening with the world, you won't have to get that speech about the human race and atoms and being together once."

"Or twice. Maybe more."

"Shut it, Kaz," she looks back at Darius, this time, with Kazuto right behind her, "and well... I guess this sounds a bit too sudden, but how about we play a game to keep us busy? I think our house is at least twenty minutes from the place we're in right now."

"Like what?"

Both Kazuto and Darius look back at her, still expecting something new and exciting.

Instead, they just get an answer that is really typical from her.

"How about "I spy with my little eye"?"

Well, maybe the trip back home won't be that long instead of believing he'll snap and end someone here, but the thought of cleaning the blood from the car leather keeps him alert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering what happens in this chapter, I'll still leave some questions.
> 
> * Why can't Kazuto see the Shadow's face? Is it something referent to his situation?


	3. late night texting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuto dances, and then he texts a friend. (Bit of a warning, mentions of blood and stuff that might hint at trauma).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself, I can't defend myself except for the fact that college is killing me, but that's about it :'(
> 
> I apologize if the chapter is a bit later than what I wanted it to be.

The moon is full, out, when he opens his window. Kazuto sees it, and wonders. It's midnight. He's been trying to sleep, but the sweat on his body only makes him feel like he's sticking to the bed, and the cold outside is just the icing on the cake. Time slows down when he's awake, just as the world goes faster when it's dark outside.

His hands open and close outside, and he hopes, almost wishing, that his hands can reach something out of this place. His breathing is uneven, shaken by fear, and ripped apart by his own mind. Images of blood flash back to him and he can't bring himself to close them in order to make them disappear. He can't. It's impossible.

It's impossible. 

When he sees the room inside, he sees red spilled on the floor, whether it's animal blood, or human blood, he can't tell. Kazuto smells blood in that place, even if there hasn't been an accident in a long time.

Hands shaky, he pulls himself inside of his bedroom, and grabs his cellphone, a grey background of a dragon greeting him with the lockscreen. He types in the PIN, and leaves for the living room.

No one else is in there, and rain has stopped a long time ago so there would be no need for Darius to remain here. Yet, with how dark it is out of this house, there might be a drunk driver who can crash someone. Which is more reason to let him sleep, since tomorrow is an almost free day for the two of them.

Kazuto walks as if he wasn't asleep a few minutes ago. His movements are not stiff in nature, like he's always prepared to run away or dance at a moment's notice.

Once he gets there, everything is turned off, but the glow of the moon sticks out of the windows, painting this apartment with an ethereal blue hue.

Maybe he can burn some time, since there's no one else in here.

The furniture in the living room is light enough for him to carry it with his hands, and he's looking for enough space to dance around, where there's none. But the space between furniture pieces, the couch, the coffee tables and the chairs for the guests, is enough for him to move around in here.

Putting his phone on the nearest coffee table, now bundled up against the couch, he stretches while his feet start leaving the floor.

It's when the music starts again when he finally gets to dance around, a powerful, yet solemn and fast piano piece. His feet move around, making big arcs on the floor, like drawing invisible ink lines on the world around him. 

This time, he gets to feel the same sensation, that a pair of hands is touching him, holding Kazuto on the ground, supporting part of his weight. 

It's not cold, but the way his arms move, creating a circle of imaginary red ink, while his partner is dancing away from him. He can see a bit of yellow fur, but nothing more than that. It's a shadow, playing illusory ballet with him on this small dance floor. Kazuto doesn't mind that, having a small game of cat and mouse is fine by him, chasing this shadow at midnight, he can play the part of the lover.

A series of pirouettes, faster with each spin, like the floor is cold and hard, instead of a soft, maroon carpet. Moving around like this is a performance, and the shadow is reaching out at him, yet, at the same time, asking to be chased. 

The music rises up to a faster pace than before, and his hand move to reach out, and then pull him back. This shadow man, he moves back, but he also wants to keep away from him.

His expression becomes more focused, as he slows down, with the rhythm coming back to a slower pace when it started. Another spin, and a longer string of pirouettes that happen in small periods of time between each other.

He can hear the man talking to him, his voice small as a whisper.

"Just move. Breathe. This dance..."

The voice starts to get mixed with other voices, but this time, they're more familiar than what he hears at that moment. They don't make much sense, because they're background noises, filled with malice and hate.

Like whispers, they get in his mind, uninvited, but they demand his attention, like hands, they grab on whatever they can find of him, trying to pull apart his seams, rip his scars and open the gaping wound that bleeds black.

It's when he's finished with the fourth repetition that he sees the same landscape that he sees in his bedroom.

It's a world where despair is winning against hope. Full of fire and ash, with a grey sky and broken homes. Death touches everything it can find, like a hunter, and gets rid of it in the most painful, agonizing way possible. A face staring back at him, red on his hands, a hole in his stomach, red, black and white mixing up and messing with the message. It's a broken hand that he can see reaching out to him, that wants to touch him, but the face of the man is unrecognizable by this point.

Broken by a heavy object, the upper part of his head is lost to the grave, but a kitsune mask tries to conceal it. The lower part of his head is disconnected, one part of the jaw is destroyed and hangs from his disassembled body.

A voice, one that he remembers hearing before, yet he can't find it anywhere his brain searches. It's a familiar feeling of anguish that he gets to personally experience, when this man places his hand on top of his, leaving his hands white. Kazuto wants to struggle, to fight back and leave and run and make this pain go away from him because he can't handle he can't handle it he can't handle it—

"Why did you leave?"

One whisper, and Kazuto wants this to stop.

His heart skips a beat, and he falls on the floor, with the piece now interrupted. Unfinished, left behind. He struggles to stand up, and goes for his cellphone.

2 AM, it reads on its screen. 

He sighs, and tries to ground himself in this empty, arranged room.

* * *

He breathes. In and out. The floor feels cold, like an ice burn, but it doesn't hurt. Kazuto doesn't react to that. His face, dripping with sweat, hair sticking to his face, is pale. His hands still touch there, like it's a way to ground himself. Dancing does this to him.

It takes him to the stars. When he dances, he feels as if the cosmos is aligning with his movements, like every star is following him, leaving a trail of stardust in this ethereal world that he makes for himself. 

Silence, for a few seconds. Then, he gets closer to the floor. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. It's a process. Like coming down from runner's high, one works in gradual increments.

Kazuto's breath evens out. He puts his face on the floor, and closes his eyes. Darkness is more than inviting for him. But closing his eyes makes the hands reach him faster. White, pale, and skeleton-like in nature, they want to touch, probe at every little scar on his body, and rip him a new one.

He opens his eyes, but he finds the same scenery from before. Moonlight, an empty room (if by empty, he means arranged to look empty, since keeping track of the things he places is asking too much of him) and a boy in the middle of the night, sitting by himself, painted in shades of blue.

A small, short beep comes from the couch. Kazuto stands up, quicker than what he expects. He smiles, the beep being familiar to him.

Kazuto sets out to arrange everything to its natural state, or as natural as it can be, because the exact order in which things are placed is something he can't replicate, not without a photo or thousands of hours. Putting furniture with enough space in between, making sure that he can walk from couch to chair, chair to table, table to couch. That's the order.

Only when it's safe to have space without touching anything, is when he sits down. Looks at the door, far away from the living room, yet so close if he runs. Then, the windows, which have at least three floors of height. Only if there's no other option in regards to exits.

He opens the app, and a warmer smile appears on his face.

* * *

Steel OX. 2:11 AM.

Hey, dude  
Just wondering  
Do you have the Saturday free? I wanted to see you, finally.  
You don't have to go, considering... Well. There's an event on the cafe near my college, it's a party for our pre-season celebration! I know you're excited to see me, so...  
Will you go?  
Ah, a teammate just told me we're having an event today, so... Thought you might wanted to go and have some sandwiches.

* * *

Ah, his beta editor. To think that Steel Ox found the best opportunity to meet him in person. Kazuto reads it three times. Each time, his eyebrows rise. Is he being serious? Does he really want to see him? He can't tell if the tone is nice, even if he's being outright invited, it's not, it's not really... What was the word? He can't find it.

He can't help but to think that.

He doesn't seem to notice, but his heart skips a small beat. Doesn't feel like a heart attack, but his thoughts say something else.

Well. Kazuto could always deny, saying that he was away from the city. But, to say that lie, he must make a valid reason for him to be in the city for a whole year, and then create another (yeah, not like he can stand creating fully-made lies in this age and time, it might be better to catch him dead before he even dates to lie like that) excuse about why he can't be there, and... No. That's too much weight for him.

He should know better than to tell the truth on the internet, but he's already too deep (a whole year is a lot of time to meet someone, as in, three hundred days talking to someone tend to do something to you when you least expect it) in this. Well, not that deep (because he can ghost him, but that's just rude, and he can hear his sister whining about respect and attention and being a compassionate person, which fly over his head). 

He settles on typing.

* * *

KoiNoBori. 2:15 AM.  
WELL. UH.  
I'll see if I can. Tomorrow, I mean. Not to be intrusive, but...  
Could you ask if your friend needs a dance group? Might bring some people to the cafe.  
Also  
Why are you awake? :/ Don't you have tennis to worry about? 

Steel OX. 2:16 AM.  
Can't slleep.  
Just like you.  
And I'll go see if he needs more events to fill time.

KoiNoBori. 2:16 AM.  
Nightmares?  
I've been there.  
You feel okay with talking about them?  
I'm already up, and I have no intention of sleeping soon.  
So  
Don't be afraid.  
:D

Steel OX. 2:20 AM.  
It's better in person.

KoiNoBori. 2:20 AM.  
Cool. Just... Be safe, okay? Don't want you to hurt yourself before you even begin playing tennis.

Steel OX. 2:20 AM.  
Too late for that.

KoiNoBori. 2:21 AM.  
You didn't do anything in the winter break, did you?

Steel OX. 2:25 AM.  
...  
MMMooo...  
no.

KoiNoBori. 2:26 AM.  
Of course. Did the machine hit you?  
.  
Steel OX. 2:27 AM.  
yeah...

KoiNoBori. 2:27 AM.  
Knew it. >:[  
You had one job, and you failed. That's what you told me. You practiced, liar.  
I can't believe the disrespect.

Steel OX. 2:27 AM.  
I knoooow, but I wasso engaged int reaading the chapeters that iforgto.

KoiNoBori.  
I'm not writing more until you promise me to do more exercise.  
It's a warning, and a threat.so do pay attention.

Steel OX.  
I know, I know.  
Besides, I guess we could... You know, play some Dragon Era? :D

KoiNoBori.  
>implying that I can do that now.  
I can't. Someone's staying here.  
>being Maguka is suffering.  
Also, you need to send the address of the cafe.

Steel OX.  
Done! Check the private chat.

KoiNoBori.  
Couldn't send it here?

Steel OX.  
It makes me sad to see the chat so empty.

KoiNoBori.  
Not our fault that the members don't pull shit to talk about. But I don't mind, it's nice to see such a calm and collected chat. 

Steel OX.  
Received.

KoiNoBori.  
What?  
...  
Explain.

* * *

Steel OX. 2:36 AM.  
uh, he said yes. Sorry. I just saw the cryptic message I left. I'll give you his number, so you can leave him your whole channel.

KoiNoBori. 2:37 AM.  
Lol  
It's not mine, but go off I guess  
but that's fine.  
You're still going to be up?

Steel OX.  
Not really  
I had to remember I need to play tennis today.  
So  
here.  
348-XXXX  
Message this number, it's Spencer's.

KoiNoBori.  
Thanks. Sleep well.

Steel OX.  
Sorry for leaving you here.

KoiNoBori.  
Don't. I'm fine with it. I'll just text him and then I'll see what happens.  
Fingers crossed, ok? Can't guarantee that he'll agree. And even more in such a short notice.

Steel OX.  
Yeah but you don't lose anything withoout trying

KoiNoBori.  
I knoooow, but still  
ill tell the girls after he says yes  
Now go to sleep.

Steel OX.  
Noted. Just say that Chester sent his number.

KoiNoBori.  
Cool! But let's stop now.

* * *

348-XXXX

2:45 AM.  
Hey, this is Kazuto, uh, Chester's friend. The one that asked if there was time for a dance group to perform?  
Hope it's not too late (not talking about the hour, but that also counts).  
But, in case you wanted to see what we can do, here's a small link to one of our performances (just four of us are gonna go, otherwise you'll be drowning in teenagers, lol)  
https://www.mytube.com/hshkwoNorth2FarWest  
That's the group that will be presenting, by the way (trust me, I know that they have free time for the entire weekend, don't worry)  
I'll be waiting for your reply when you're awake/available, and if there's something that you need to work out, let me know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions for the chapter:
> 
> * What kind of dynamic can you see from Chester's and Kazuto's interactions over text?  
> *What's obvious about Kazuto that you can see from his messages?


	4. a pause in hostilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darius gets a drawing from his soulmate, and Rose fights with him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I have not many things to apologise for, so my only apology is that I took so long to get this done, so I made it a bit longer than the other two chapters to compensate. Hope you liked it!

"I swear, whoever is doing this to me..." Darius is scrubbing his legs with the soap. 

Water running, and soaking him. He grabs more, and keeps rubbing the spiral on his leg. It doesn't go away, and it's something that starts to get under his skin, as he puts the soap (almost throwing it on the small box they have) and waits for the foam to drain.

"Fuck this. Fuck. Fuck this shit."

He sees the spiral, made of red pen (probably safe for fur and scales) and with a lot of details on the way to the eye of the flat hurricane. There's an actual eye at the very heart of it, and Darius can only think on how he can cover this up. It's not that the drawing's bad, but why this place, out of every body part that he has?

Frankly, he would prefer to have it on his dick rather than his leg.

Maybe the shorts will help. If not, then he's fucked. That is, if he can find a way to hide it using socks, but he's not relying on that one, either. There are chances that they'll slide down his calves, and then his whole plan goes straight to the trash can, where it belongs.

Turning off the water, he leaves the stall, to find the drier already connected. Thanks, whoever you are? Probably the kid, or maybe his sister. Either way, he's not paying much attention to the details, and now even more that he has something more concerning.

Pushing the hot air button, he starts to dry off, beginning with his mane. He searches for scissors (which he sees right on the table, honestly, by this point, he's more worried about who needs them to cut... Oh, now he knows. Geez, kid). While they are in his hands, he gets rid of the extra fur, which is starting to get under his chin.

Although, he could... Nah, not a chance in hell. He'll look like his father. And that's not his look, a vibe that he wants to give. He keeps cutting the excess of hair and leaves it on the sink, to be drained like this freaking— he hates this drawing, hates the whole concept of soulmates, too, now that he's there to mock it. Whoever said the first theory about atoms being made together as the reason for soulmates must be fired and stoned to death. Darius hopes they never got any. That must suit them, with their whole feelings bullshit.

Anyways, he scratches the fur where the spiral remains, and he still hasn't discovered how to wipe it off.

He's done with the hair and the front. Now, his least favorite part. Not that he minds it, but he can't find it in him to blow dry all of his back, and even then, he won't be able to reach all of the places that he wants to.

But, he can't whine about it, he wants to get done with this day before anyone even points out what he has on his calf and thigh. So, he just turns it on again and goes on his business with the blow drier.

What he doesn't notice is when the door opens, which is the only thing that makes him aware of the place he's in, and turns around to face the kid, most likely (the bathroom is in his room, so he might as well be).

"Darius, oh my—!"

Nope. It's Rose. She's standing in the doorway, with his tennis uniform in his hand, and the other one is covering her eyes. 

"You liked what you see?"

"No! And, and just—!" She takes her hand off her face, and then she catches a glimpse of Darius' full body. She screams, again, and turns around, her hand still outstretched to give him the clothes. "My God, you guys are the same... I swear."

Darius is smirking now. 

"It's not like letting you see my whole body excites me. See?" He wiggles a bit with his dick, still limp, "You're not attractive to me. Wrong junk down there."

"You have a soulmate! Can't you, at least, respect them?"

And there it goes. Day's ruined now. He grabs the clothes and starts putting them on, the mood is sour.

"Fuck off, I don't know them. Do you think I could care about that? It's my fucking body."

She doesn't face him, still, but her hands are on top of her elbows. Rose opens the door, and steps out. She doesn't go all the way out. Either she's just too

"That's not... You should care, Darius."

He's still putting on his shorts when she faces him. Rose's face shows a lot more of bravery now, when she looks at him in the eye.

"Why, then? All I hear is mushy stuff about your other half. You know, people are whole already, they don't need someone else."

Darius steps out of the bathroom, to find Rose staring down at him, eyes blazing. She starts to monologue, but he's not in the mood and he won't have it from her. 

"You don't know what you're saying... When the time comes—"

"If it comes." He corrects her on the spot.

"It will. The fact that they drew something on your body is proof enough. They are out there, why do you react so badly to that?"

It's an old story, and why does he feel like a part of his personality is coming under attack?

"Maybe because I don't want other people telling me what to do? I'm not your goddamn child."

Rose steps forward. As much as he likes to feel proud of his own height, she manages to tower over him. Rose places a finger on Darius' chest, then pushing him backwards. The whole situation is so funny, if he could laugh out loud, the he would, but there's just static in his head, and most of the time, that's not a good sign.

"You're being completely insensitive about this, you know? Have you ever thought of the rest? Of the people who have a dead soulmate? Sending messages and never receiving an answer? Don't you think that's the worst feeling? If anything, that's one of the best things that happen to people around—"

He's listening to Spencer now, and he's already getting tired of the same speech. It's always soulmates this, soulmates that, fuck it, fuck them all.

"It's just a drawing. They don't matter at all. You think this is such a great moment, like it's the fucking cure for cancer," He points at the lines on his leg, then he puts his own finger on her chest, "but you don't get that you're reading too much into a fucking pond! It's just a bunch of lines! Grow up and let go of those sappy romance novels!"

She backs off, finally. Then, her gaze goes straight to the floor, and it's almost like kicking a puppy. But he has to keep his distance. 

It's a moment of silence, yet it seems to stretch for hours. Rose is breathing, and clenches her fists. It's when he sees her in the eye that he knows, he can tell, that he's fucked.

"I want you to shut up."

"Didn't say—"

"Off topic! If you want to discredit those stories as just ’sappy bullshit’, then fine, leave me alone! But don't you dare to throw other people's feelings under the bus." She takes a deep breath, but it doesn't help with that. "Just because you are an emotionally weak man doesn't mean that you can put me down!"

"The hell are you even—"

Rose steps forwards, getting right on his face. 

"Don't tell me that you don't believe it!" She then snarls, and starts to imitate his body language, lowering her voice. "Oh, I'm Darius, and I prefer to hook up with anyone with a Y chromosome because I'm afraid to catch feelings, so that's why I'm so bad with girls, because they don't attract me! Miss. Me. With that. Bullshit."

Oh, no. She's lying right now. Must be, has to be. It's something that makes Darius' vision go red, and something that expands into a more abstract form of rage.

"Sorry for not trying to be constantly looking for my other half, it must be fucking hard for you to be always chasing a guy who's not even interested in you, that you forget yourself!"

Rose stops, too. Both of them seem to have a knife at the other's throat, looking to get the easy kill right now, an all-or-nothing deal.

Before they can even continue, there's the sound of the door opening, and closing. Some steps forward, and two arms separate both of them. The kid's standing there, in the middle of the battlefield.

"I just left for five minutes. Five. Minutes..." Kazuto places a hand on his forehead, and sighs. "What happened here, that made both of you argue like you're a freaking couple?"

He stands there, waiting for an answer. But he's not gonna have one, no chance in hell.

And it seems like Rose is not having it.

The kid's too short to even think of him as a menace. Except for the muscles, of course, but Darius prefers to think about how they'll react when he's squirming under him.

"Ask him."

"Ask her."

Both of those answers are unsatisfying. Kazuto drops his shoulders, like releasing tension from his body. Then, he looks at both of them. He's scanning the room, for something out-of-place, but he doesn't find it.

If he's thinking that he can scold him, then he's fucking wrong. 

A few moments of silence for what's going to be their lives, yet what comes out of his mouth is something entirely different. 

"I'll go prepare breakfast."

And he leaves, not even willing to discuss it with them.

Neither of them want to.

* * *

Maybe it's the fact that they were screaming ten minutes ago, or maybe it's just that Kazuto is there in the room, but neither of them are attacking each other, and it's something that hits Darius like a brick to the face. It's the silence that keeps a house calm, but not happy. He has experience with this. Like a tacit agreement not to disturb the child with their fights, parents shut up and let stuff stew for too long.

But that's not important, what matters is the now.

They're all eating the pancakes, Rose is talking something that Darius won't bother registering because it's too boring, and the kid, well, he's just drawing while he eats. Doesn't look like he's tired of this, either. What does he eat for breakfast, to remain like that?

"You should start with the work now, you won't have time later." Kazuto is putting lines on paper, wobbly and inaccurate and messy, then erasing them, between bites.

There's a messy stack of pancakes still on his plate, full of chocolate and maple syrup and bananas all chopped up on top of each other and making Darius cringe in his insides. The amount of calories that this kid is consuming is just... Surprising. 

Rose doesn't skip a beat after she places another one on top of her plate.

"Maybe."

"Maybe you should tell Darius where the book is, now that you're here. Again, I won't be here for long."

She groans, high enough so they can hear her. Then, she sits on the table. Her stack is nowhere near the other two. Kazuto gives her one of his pancakes, to which Rose puts it away from her, back on his territory of chocolate and liquids.

"I don't know how you can keep all of your muscles with that kind of diet. Do you even know how many calories are in that pile?"

She looks away, but her brother is just there to smile at her. Oh, no. She's unaware of what's going to happen to her. She can't hear him, she has headphones on. It's such a shame, really. But Rose just set everything up for him. Handed him the opportunity in a silver platter. Kazuto looks at Darius, right on his fucking face, with that shit-eating grin, and he knows. Darius just knows what's going to happen next.

"You know, there is something you can do for me..." He's cutting up half of a pancake, and slowly, just too slow so he can enjoy this moment of horror in her face when she notices.

"Oh, no..." It's so easy, yet the timing is so appropriate for it that he can't help but smile. Fuck helping her, this is golden. Payback is served, everyone go home.

"Then, why not—"

"Tennis game." Surprisingly, the two of them react at the same time. Like their minds are connected or some mushy shit like that.

Her face turns to horror, and then goes from that to disappointment and finally settles on resignation. When the pancake flops on her plate, she sighs, placing a hand on top of her nose.

Darius starts to snicker. Rose gives him a glare, to which he only replies with outright laughter. 

"Well, you deserved it," Darius grabs another mouthful, and eats in front of her, like a mockery of her pain, "setting up that trick, you seriously didn't expect him to try that?"

She cringes.

"No. Just. I didn't—I didn't know, okay? Leave me alone." She looks at the pancake like it's some sort of monster that's going to judge her for being a glutton, for like, one moment. 

His expression falters for a second, and wait a minute, wait—does he see guilt on his face? No way, you don't back out in this moment, you dancing goblin. Yet, even with his internal dialogue interrupted, Kazuto takes away everything that was on top of his (previously) pancake, and licks it off the knife.

"Sorry." It's a small whisper, but now, the pancake is flat, and doesn't have much in the way of diabetes.

Rose lifts her shoulders up.

"It's fine, I— Sorry. Bad times."

"I know," that's what he says, as he gets up, "also, it's not fair that our guest has to search for the book, so don't worry about it, I'll go."

"Uh— Ah, thank you."

The door to her room closes, and she's there. Frowning, playing with her hair, like there's something on her mind she can't bring herself to say. And he doesn't judge. He can't, really.

"Guess I'll say sorry, too. I might not like it, but your soulmate stuff... Uh, well, it's valid. Had the time to think it over."

A pause in hostilities. Rose seems to lighten up, now that he changes the topic of this entire conversation. His tone sounded strange, like he wanted to say more, but left it there just to undercut the entire situation.

Rose takes a moment to digest it.

"I'm... I'm sorry, too. Uh—Listen, I know I overreacted to what you said, you're not, you're not defined by that. Uh, and you're valid in your choices, too."

Darius grins.

"I'll take it, then."

It's... Strange, now that he's thinking about it, because both of them are still looking at the other, waiting for a better answer. A better solution.

Kazuto comes back soon after that, book in hand.

"I'll take it you are on speaking terms, right?"

And the goddamn kid looks so proud of this, as if he engineered the whole situation. Guess that means he must look deeper into him, if he wants to know more about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank you for sticking until this point, and, thank God that I got the first 15th out of the way, so feel free to ask me questions and more!
> 
> Hope we see each other on the next chapter!


	5. you'll need it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> discord chat, and soulmate discovery (one-sided).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my festival celebration in my country, so I have it free as a holiday, and that means you'll get to have a free chapter in order to catch the wave of updates!
> 
> Feel free to comment and enjoy the story from here!

#general-chat

* * *

KoiNoBori. 5:56 AM.  
Lesbiabs, let's get this breAD TOMORROW WE'RE DANCING AT THE CAFE NEAR CRESTHAVEN'S COMM COLLEGE

MoniQueer. 5:56 AM  
You got it??

KoiNoBori.  
Yeah!! I've been talking to the guy who's organizing this, and he gave me the clear, so we're pretty much set!!! 

Chlorine.  
You mean we will perform in front of people ???aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

KoiNoBori.  
Sjdhbzmznznwnxkoaos yeah, we will!

MoniQueer.  
Im shajking kandnandnzmmznxbwiropqnsjdjsk

KoiNoBori.  
Jenxmaosppwfinsns

Chlorine.  
JdnNxnkandoqpqpdjjandnamdlpakenwm

KoiNoBori.  
I might have to go for a while, please leave me suggestions for songs so we can start dancing todaAY!

MoniQueer.  
Oooooh wwhat about DuMb?

KoiNoBori.  
Cool! Let me add it to the list.

Chlorine.  
ICY! ADD IT! we shall make more ITZY stans!!!

KoiNoBori.  
Sure! Let me add it!  
Any ideas, @PEAsants?

PEAsants. 6:00 AM.  
my god... You guys don't sleep, do you?  
Except Kazuto, we all know why.

Chlorine. 6:00 AM.  
Sleep is for the weak

MoniQueer.  
True

KoiNoBori.  
Same hat  
And a big mood.  
And thank you.

MoniQueer.  
That is so me.

KoiNoBori.  
Me when I wake up at 3AM, sweaty and dirty.

Chlorine.  
Me when I come back home because my job sucks so hard.

MoniQueer.  
So true. This message came to my house, and dragged me through the door just so it could shame me.

PEAsants.  
AAANyway, I say that we add MOVE  
so I can be the goth girlfriend all of y'all want me to be  
Also, are u ok?

KoiNoBori.  
Mood, guess I should bring my leather stuff for tomorrow,,,

MoniQueer.  
I mean,

Chlorine.  
We never said that we were fine, tho.

PEAsants.  
Chloe, I'm kicking your dad's ass, and that's final  
All of y'all go back to sleep, class begins at 8  
you need it for tomorrow.

KoiNoBori pinned a message.

KoiNoBori. 6:03 AM.  
Smae, but I have to do some stuff rn  
aaaaand I have a guest at home,,  
So,,,, I should leave  
Bye grills!

Last message. 6:03 AM.

* * *

"Maybe you should put more red on that." Darius points to the watercolor box, full of shades of red, and of all colors, including white (which is, to no one's surprise except Darius', full). Then, he pushes it, slightly, almost like nudging him in that direction. "You said it needs to look bloody, so..."

"What, Darius? You want this—" Kazuto's showing the drawing back to Darius, and the whole piece looks dark, like a horror book cover should look— "to look bloodier?"

Well, Darius doesn't react immediately to the question, but he ends up smiling after seeing the results of his efforts with description. It's not the best, but it could be worse.

"Hey, it looks cool."

"Yeah?" Kazuto looks between the drawing and Darius, yet he doesn't show his understanding. "It doesn't look weird, like, at all?"

"Nah, why would it? It looks better than the book one."

And now it's the time for him to be flustered. Kazuto covers his mouth with one of his hands. Red. He's already red, and this is the moment when Darius laughs, and he does, but not for long.

"You should be proud. I, for one, can't draw a stick figure. Well, unless it has—"

He doesn't even get to finish, Kazuto won't let him. 

"Don't put yourself down. Anyone can do this."

"Yeah, but I didn't. Which says a lot about you, you know? Art is fucking—"

He sighs, like it's not the first time he hears it coming from someone else's mouth. Then, he takes two pencils, two random scraps of watercolor paper that he has in his backpack, and then one of his old drawings, with one of his signature themes on the page: flowers and hands.

Darius looks at it like it's some sort of magic artifact, long-forgotten by an ancient civilization, and it's finally here, on this table, right in front of him. 

Kazuto still has that look in his eyes. That one, the one in which he won't take a no for an answer. The one that makes you rethink your mistakes, and analyze them from a different perspective, like a teacher who's going to give you a lecture, no matter what, and you. Will. Enjoy it.

"Stop, and look at the drawing."

He does, and his eyes widen. Kazuto grabs another random scrap, this one is more recent, due to the difference in style and the quality of the lines.

The first one, the one with the flowers and the hands, it's a lot more wobbly with every line, like he's been thinking about the quality of each little centimeter of the drawing, agonizing, spending time suffering because of it. Rough around the edges, like the time he made it.

The second, it has a pair of birds, but the line is cleaner, even though they (the lines, he wants to say) branch out and form the feathers, shaky, but with more confidence in the placement and overall shape.

"Do you see the difference between the two of them?"

Darius lifts both of the drawings, and compares them, side to side. He gives up quickly.

"I don't know much about art, but the second one seems better."

Kazuto smiles, because that's a good answer. A step in the right direction.

"The second one I made it last year, the first one..."

"Was a long time ago, right? You love attention, don't you? Flexing on the poor, artistically dumb folks?"

"Nah, not really. It was two years ago when I made that one. And no, just saying that people take time to grow and everyone can learn."

"Yeah, then why not teach me?"

Kazuto hands him the bigger scrap of paper, and throws the pencil (which he catches, thanks to feline reflexes). Both of them are still sitting near the coffee table, just a cup of tea near Kazuto's hand. Rose is off in her room, which is more for the sake of cooling off both of the college students, rather than spending more time with his soulmate (not that Darius is aware, as far as he knows). He swears, when Darius keeps his gaze too long on his face, Kazuto can feel his brain being picked apart for the sake of science, and he won't approve of that. Maybe, just maybe if they were going to give him a party afterwards. But a party for the dead—

"Hey, Kaz. Stop spacing out."

Kazuto sees that Darius is waving his hand in front of his eyes, and snaps out of whatever trance he's in. He sees the drawing, which is finished, but Darius still has his own piece of paper in hand, and that—

Oh. Right.

"Sorry. I was thinking about stuff for tomorrow."

"Like what?"

Ah, well. Does he have to say that, expose himself? It's his hobby, and an activity that he does for free, without any expectations of payment, yet... There's a hesitation, in how Kazuto grabs his phone, just to show him. It doesn't have to be this hard, but, the way he has seen people get enraged about it is not a thing he wants to risk because Darius doesn't look like that sort of person (the sort to punch him in the face and call him names for— for nothing, really—) and maybe he might compliment him again, and he's just—

Fuck it, the cellphone is on now, if he doesn't like it... He'll run off for the bus stop.

"We volunteered to dance, uh— to dance in the event for tomorrow, the uh, the— the tennis team pre-season stuff... You know? I don't, really. Never knew about it."

Darius smirks.

"You wouldn't. Senior year, right?"

"Yeah. How—"

"Your sister," he makes a gesture to stop and puts the cellphone down, "show me the dance."

"Wait, I was—"

"I meant, right now. In here."

Kazuto is the one smirking now, although, for a different reason. This, he can expect from him.

"This part of the work won't be finished for tomorrow, so..."

"Who cares?"

"Uh... You? And Rose? She would have my head on a platter if I don't."

Darius walks closer to him, each step feeling like a beat in a song, one that slows down and it makes his heart skip a beat (because he knows— he knows that a soulbond is supposed to make people feel like this, according to the movies though, because it sure sounds like a great idea to leave your— oh right, he sent Rose to her room and that's where she is).

Just when he's about to get in his face, the bell rings.

Fuck his luck.

Kazuto and Darius look at each other. Then, Kazuto smiles while looking away, just right on time to hear Rose yelling about spiders. As much as he loves his sister, this is just ridiculous.

"Can you come open the door, please? I'll... Well, you see what I'll have to do soon."

"Sure..."

Before he can even look at Darius again, Kazuto yells from the hallway to the bedroom.

"Just tell her to come in!"

* * *

# general-chat

Chlorine. 7:30 AM  
@KoiNoBori answer my messages coward  
I know you're online!! I can feel it in my bones!  
Answer, you didiot  
...  
Grills @MoniQueer @PEAsants  
We need to get him.  
He definitely has something to explain.  
He has a marker. I can tell.  
It's like, my gay soulmate sense.  
My gay soulmate senses are tingling  
what is he doing, love?

MoniQueer. 7:31 AM.  
He's writing notes about the class.  
This is strange.  
Are we in the Twilight Zone?  
Also, you shouldn't be on your phone, love.

PEAsants. 7:31 AM.  
None of us shouldn't, but you two are ignoring that rule because you're lesbian idiots,,  
How did you figure out you were soulmates, even?  
You wouldn't respect the basic rules.

MoniQueer. 7:31 AM.  
We didn't, that's the point  
Match made in heaven, heyhowareyou??  
The teacher will pluck every marker I have!! So no! That's homophobic, you know? 

Chlorine. 7:32 AM.  
Yeah!! It's institutionalized homophobia!!  
And I oopvbbnaudjqndmaisjannsnananamsppziajsnanndnams

MoniQueer. 7:33 AM.  
Oh  
Uh  
I must. Leave. For unrelated reasons. Completely unrelated. I'm free right now. 

PEAsants. 7:34 AM.  
I knew she would get caught. She's not subtle.

MoniQueer.  
You're not helping !!!!! :'(((  
My girlfriend is in trouble and I'm bleeding rn  
BTW pls don't let Kazuto know...  
Oh  
Uh  
DELETE!!

PEAsants.  
Do you even read your own messages, Monica?  
Besides, even IF, and it's a big fat IF, he doesn't know because he's also in the middle of discovering who's his soulmate, which, again, it's a big fat IF, since Kazuto is a dork, he'll still be able to read any messages that you send here, including those you delete.

MoniQueer. 7:35 AM.  
I'm sorry I don't listen to PEASANTS last time I remember  
Umm did I hear anything??  
Ah, it's the birds singing outside!  
What if...  
I threw.  
A.  
Rock.  
In. Your  
Face? :)

* * *

PEAsants. 7:45 AM.  
...  
You're dead now, please scream your last words.

MoniQueer.  
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
SAVMEMEMEEE

* * *

PEAsants. 7:50  
When you can read this, Chloe, let it be known that your girlfriend broke her nose and she's now in the infirmary. Keep the PDA off the halls and you're cool. Otherwise you're a dead girl walking, too.

PEAsants pinned a message.

* * *

KoiNoBori. 7:55 AM.  
Uh,  
Can anybody explain why did Monica punch herself until she got a bloody nose?  
...  
... :[  
Bea.  
I think we need to talk, for a second, okay?

PEAsants. 7:55 AM.  
No.  
Not now.

KoiNoBori.  
Please??  
I need to ccmtell you something.

PEAsants.  
So you HAD something to tell.  
Huh.  
Who's the lucky person?  
Tell me so I can investigate.  
Personal reasons.  
Very, very important personal reasons.

KoiNoBori.  
DMs?  
I feel like I'll be the talk of the town for the next few hours.  
So.  
I don't want to make them sad.  
Because  
Well  
They haven't stopped with the questions since Chloe came to my house.  
Uh  
I'll go vent.

* * *

#PEAsants.

KoiNoBori. 10:50 AM.  
So.  
Uh  
I need to explain stuff.  
Yeah, I know who's my soulmate.  
No, I don't know if he knows.  
Yes, I've seen my marks on his body. Yeah, it was a spiral.  
No, I don't have the heart to tell him, right now. I don't know if he'll take those news well, the guy's not good with romance (according to a conversation I overheard, but IDK how reliable that is, sooo)  
Okay. I wonder if Chloe will stop bothering me for a while. I mean, I know that she's well-intentioned, that she wants me to be happy, but,,,  
I just, I hate it when people tell me stuff like that. Makes me feel like I'm a kid.  
Almost had the reflex to flip the bird (not you, really) at her. Wouldn't do it because she was really excited about this whole thing that she asked me to show her the spiral (she didn't stop until I showed her). And, well.  
I felt bad. Mostly because uh,  
You see  
itkindaremindsmeoftwoyearsagoandihateitgodijustwanttoscreamather.  
Sorry.

PEAsants. 10:55 AM.  
Don't. Apologize.  
You're the dad of this group.  
Well, divorced dad. But still.  
You should tell Chloe how you feel about this. That she should mind her business.  
Otherwise you'll see how this evolves from her getting in your life, to the point that you won't be able to enjoy any of it, and maybe he won't, either.  
So let's kill the patient zero. Okay? Cut the problem right from the root.

KoiNoBori.  
...  
Ok. I  
I understand.  
Anything else?

PEAsants. 11:24 AM.  
Hmm...  
You don't have much luck. 

KoiNoBori. 11:25 AM.  
Yeah?

PEAsants.  
You don't feel much when you're with him?

KoiNoBori.  
It's... Strange, to say the least.  
I don't know much of him, so I can't say anything.  
Would like to know more, that's for sure. But.  
You know.  
The whole "I'm not into romance, thanks."  
How do I deal with that?

PEAsants.  
When you get closer to him, you'll start to notice, okay?  
This is something that Chloe will say, so forgive me, but  
If he's your soulmate, then that means he wants to love someone, feel loved, or whatever.  
I'm not good with this love stuff. Sorry.

KoiNoBori.  
It's fine.  
I can get where it comes from.  
I'm curious, that's all.  
Do you want something in exchange for your services?

PEAsants.  
If we get to dance HIP, I'll consider having this session free of charge.  
Also, you have to wear leather for tomorrow.

KoiNoBori.  
...  
Ok.  
Is there something that you're not saying?

PEAsants.  
Get back to class.  
Oh  
And use eyeliner tomorrow. Black.  
We'll go full emo, the two of us.

KoiNoBori. 11:40 AM  
Knew it.  
Well  
I'll be in Chemistry, if you need the notes, let me know, ok?

PEAsants. 11:45 AM.  
Have fun.  
And good luck with your soulmate stuff.  
You'll need it.


	6. but only because you were adopted!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuto writes more messages on Darius' skin. And tries to apologize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have an apology? No. This is longer than what I use to write, but I hope you enjoy it.

"So, what now?"

Kazuto is holding Chloe's cellphone. Drenched. All of the dance kids are wet. Staying close is a good solution to that, but for Kazuto it means to brush shoulders and that's too close for comfort and he really doesn't want to do this and it's not like he hates the girls in the group, really, but he wants, he aches for an some personal space and there's not enough here maybe air—

Someone else speaks and he stumbles his way out to the other wall. His breathing doesn't catch up, he can't have space on the chairs and it's bothering him, really.

"I don't know," Bea says. She's the only one who's not wet. She stands, far away from the rest of the girls. 

Many things happened in just a few minutes. How? He doesn't know, he can't tell if it's just a prank war that got out of control or if there's something bigger going on behind this. None of them want to say anything, and they don't act out of the normal. No tells to show that they're lying (they can catch up to that), no way to tell if their stories are fake or half-lies (they don't say much, and what they say doesn't contradict anyone's statement).

"Guess that means we'll get in trouble. All of us." Kazuto sighs, looking at the girls. 

They all look at each other. They nod, without dissent. It's almost like a tacit agreement. Either the thieves are caught, or the whole ship sinks. But he's just mixing metaphors here, maybe there's not even a good metaphor for what he needs to say in this moment.

One of the girls from the Odd Square sub-unit (they work in units, easier to organize and practice) raises her hand, and Kazuto nods to let her speak. Her name? Norma, is it? He feels that she's a Norma. He hasn't heard her name, though. But she's a cat, and there are only four felines in the whole group, so that means Monica and Sophie are out of the question. Monica, according to the witness, is already in the infirmary; Sophie, on the other hand...

"You believe us, right? You've—you've seen her, did you?"

Bea speaks this time.

"We haven't. We can't tell what happened clearly, but..."

"It all checks out." Kazuto is the one to finish for her, they both look at each other and cross their arms. "As much as we would like to tell you off... We can't. Or more likely, we don't want to."

"Cruel. We might have more chances of convincing the principal not to disband the dance club if we unite." Bea starts to ruffle everyone's fur or feathers, to check if they still feel cold. Most of them react well to the touch. Bea, at this point, turns to Kazuto and hugs him.

He doesn't react much, but the gesture is eventually returned, with hesitation. Like it's not something he deserves.

"Kazuto and I will speak, if any of you want to stay in and speak, please say it before we enter."

None of them raise their hands.

Kazuto and Bea sigh.

"None of you? You really don't want to defend Monica?"

Silence. A beat passes.

Kazuto frowns. As much as he wants backup, he knows how their meetings with the principal went. Most of them, they were not good. The few that have a good result, are because either of the two are involved.

"We'll be back, but we don't promise anything."

They don't reply.

Using sodium to create a chemical reaction in the male showers, God. If they weren't here, then what would have happened to the rest? Kazuto and Bea look at each other. He sees the same anger in the way she's walking, her steps sound stronger than usual, and her stride is more powerful. Some of the feathers are starting to rise up, making her look bigger than usual.

"This is going to get us suspended, right?"

Bea shakes her head. They don't look at each other. And the silence that grows between them is separating the few arguments and how they hold up to the principal's scrutiny. They might not survive, but at least they are happy to fight back.

Maybe, just maybe, one week will suffice. Otherwise, well, they're fucked anyways. So that doesn't matter when they're about to enter the chopping block.

Two steps forwards and a scream. Then, a blur.

On the hallway, close to the principal's office, he sees a wolf pass by. Just when he thinks he can pass without anyone noticing, his step falters, and there's a pair of football players who stop him, right in the middle of the halls. It's like an itch, but both of them go straight for the wolf guy.

He doesn't even register that the wolf is being lifted from his jacket.

"It's best if you leave him alone, guys." Bea's voice is stern, cold like iron, and both of them are staring at the football players in the eyes.

"We weren't gonna do anything to him, lady."

"Yeah, we were just playing, right?"

And they grab from his collar, the wolf doesn't struggle in his grip. But they know better. Victims don't fight back when there's a crowd, and you can fail in front of them. The humiliation is worse than the alternative. 

"Leave him. Now." His voice sounds more stern than what he expects.

They drop him, if only to make sure that Kazuto goes back to his place, which isn't clear at the moment. There's supposed to be a hierarchy of how people behave. Some at the top, the rest at the bottom. Once someone goes up, many have to go down. Where Kazuto is, in the middle of two lines, he has much further to fall than the wolf.

"Or what, kid?" The tone is full of mockery, like he's not speaking to someone in the same age, but rather, a child who doesn't belong in this place. "Are you running to snitch on us?"

"We might, if you keep this up. Repeat offenders must be expelled." Bea talks now, putting a step in front of Kazuto, placing herself between the player and her friend. "Do we have to remind you of what happened last week?"

After a few seconds of confrontation, where there isn't an actual fight, and the three of them back off. Whether it's a tacit agreement to do so, they don't know. It's more like a feeling that they won't be able to continue this silent fight, simply because there's nothing else at stake in here.

"Whatever. Let's go. Maybe these queers willl leave us alone..."

She almost lunges for them, but Kazuto has to stop her before anyone gets more detention. There's already enough for the rest of the day to bring upon themselves a worse punishment. Whatever. They don't deserve a second of his time.

Both of them watch as the guys leave, laughing at whatever queerphobic jokes they invent, as the wolf tries to wipe the dust out of his jacket.

"Do you need help?" Kazuto offers a hand. 

He rejects it.

"Don't touch me. I'm fine."

"But— you know, your jacket—"

"I know!" The wolf snaps at Kazuto, pushes him away. "Leave me alone, _queers_."

The wolf leaves, without letting the two of them explain. Now, they're alone, the principal doesn't react to anything, and both are going to die inside.

It's not the best arrangement, and not the moment he expects to die, but sure, he'll take it.

"The hell just happened?" 

Bea is quick to respond, holding Kazuto's hand, before he goes and tries to apologise to the wolf for bothering him. Which means that he'll fuck up even further and give the guy more reasons to apologise for, and that's an endless cycle. Fruitless, endless cycle.

"Don't bother. We'll need to enter. Now."

Silent, the two students enter the office, near the corner where the football players left a few minutes ago.

* * *

_"if you have something important today, good luck!!"_

The message is clear on his hand. Red ink, like the last one. But the scenario he's in... That's the difference. The English classroom is close, as Darius can already hear Spencer and Eric talking inside. Hah. Maybe those two are closer than what he already thinks.

Even if it doesn't go away, it's only a matter of ignoring the message. Maybe it'll go away. And if doesn't...

Yeah, no. Last resort. That's a good reason as any.

But it doesn't. The same clear, refreshing sensation comes back to his arm, this time, it's in the small space on his forearm, where most people don't look unless they pay attention.

_"no one's going to notice, it'll be fine."_

Then why does he write this? So he can see it and start to wonder who knows, too? So he can get this thought in him and make him more self-conscious about his appearance? There's a good reason why he shaves fur, as much as he hates it. 

If he says it's because of an accident, people are more understanding of that. But deleting his soulmate's messages is not a thing that can happen easily, and most of the time, after a day, the messages disappear with his fur.

Thank God that this time, they're written in red ink. Black is definitely not his color these days.

He opens the door, and sees both Spencer and Eric closer than ever. Yep. He knows. It's such a friendly act, that your hand lingers a few seconds longer than what you usually do to tease another girl. Of course, Spencer. That's just perfect. Leave them hanging.

"I knew it. I fucking knew it."

It's the best way to make his presence known. Fashionably late, too. Better late than never, he guesses? Darius can hear the rest of the guys' steps to the classroom, which means that he can't really grill Eric as he wants to. Fuck his plans. Fuck his dreams. 

The best thing he can do is get closer to Eric, and whisper next to him.

"So... you and Spencer, huh? Were you planning something with him?"

Eric looks back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"No, Darius. Mind your business."

"Oh, come on! You can't tell me that..." He places an arm on top of Eric's shoulder, and leans a bit towards his ear. "You know, maybe I can tell you something about Spencer, huh? What do you think?"

"Now's not the time."

And he leaves. Well, whatever. He'll try again later, not that he can't take the hint. Coach is already here, too. So that means they'll go to Elton Ranch. Fine by him, although he hasn't met people from there, he's heard stories about the students of the football club.

The only thing he can say about them is that they involve a lot more alcohol and sex toys than the average college party. Which is more than what he can say about this one, where time is made up and no one makes parties. Ah, to be the main event in a meeting...

All of them are in a circle. Coach's muscle shirt is letting his gut spill out at the end, just right before the place his shorts begin. Does he realize that it's a size too small for him? It's probably a triple XL, as far as he knows. Maybe he gets his clothes from the oversized store in the city? That's the only place he's been that can sell those. He must have spent some money a few months (at most, Darius can say a year) ago. 

"Alright, guys. This is what we're going to do..."

He starts explaining more stuff about the players from the opposite team, and, apparently, he's supposed to play against their strongest, with a speedy partner. Just like them. Mirror match, okay. He can handle that. Besides, it's not like Dozer will complain about it.

Usual pep-talk before the matches, typical advice from the coach, arrangements to see who goes where (Chester and Eric with Spencer, Dozer and him with the Coach. Fuck his luck), and then he's inside the car with Dozer in the front seat, and Coach driving.

At least the music is good. And the trip, too short. 

While the car moves along the road, the cars that go right beside them blur due to the speed. It's an interesting sight, the way the colors become a mess on their window. He used to watch the cars go by when he was younger. His dad would be driving fast through the city, and his mother would be playing games with his siblings. 

Maybe he can drive his car to distract himself?

Wait a second.

"Don't you guys feel cold?" 

He's asking for a friend. Well, for himself. But Darius is Darius' friend.

None of them answer right away. Coach is cursing about the drivers on the road, and Dozer is (not surprising, if he's honest) looking at the window... And wait, is he smiling too? There's not much to smile at. 

Dozer's head moves to see Darius' new spiral on his leg, this time, he can't cover it with the shorts, nor the socks that he borrowed from the kid.

Darius manages to catch it, and covers up what he can. 

He hears a whisper. Just right in front of him.

"Your soulmate?"

"Yeah... Not even gonna bother with him."

Silence. Dozer doesn't reply that quickly, now that he notices. He's taking his time to mull over his words. Almost as if talking about it is too dangerous.

"Didn't think you were a Receiver." Dozer plays with the safety belt.

"No one does."

He's not sure why he is talking to Dozer, the resident big, silent guy, about soulmates, but it's not one of the conversations he was expecting to have in his life. At most, he expected to have thirty before the idea even came to his mind.

Yet, his soulmate insists on drawing spirals. Who the fuck is obsessed with them, anyways? It's not a heart, nor a star, so he can't tell that he's childish. He can't know what the hell it means, either, because most of the time, he receives messages that don't even make sense (according to him, but his sister begs to differ). Hell, sometimes they're not even in English. It's useless bullshit. Doesn't tell Darius anything that's noteworthy about him. Not even giving his number, the audacity of it all. At least the guy could ask to be fucked, and he would gladly take the chance to pound his ass.

"Are you angry about it?" 

Darius smiles after saying that. He looks at the window, again.

"Kinda. I'm more annoyed that he doesn't give me anything to go off."

Dozer hums. It sounds like an air conditioner. It's a bit funny, if he can appreciate it in isolation.

"I'm sure he has his reasons not to share."

Well, he hopes the guy has a good reason to stay silent about himself.

"It has to be a really good one, though. Otherwise, I'm kicking that guy's ass." 

And with that, the conversation's over. Neither of them reply or make an effort to talk.

Well, fuck him. At least he can answer honestly, and better yet, he won't do that. No. Not even a reaction from him. And that includes the next messages, and anything that appears on his fur.

Fuck that guy.

* * *

"I hope it looks fine." 

Kazuto is cleaning the first spiral, and leaves the second one on his skin. His pants are open. He lifts his t-shirt, revealing more spirals. Then, he The only other person in this room is Monica, who's sitting in the stall next to Kazuto's. She's not doing anything, as far as he knows. But the way she got to this situation is perfect for a book. Or two. Or a video. Maybe he should watch the new video from MOOMA. The notification came through after Chemistry, which came after the talk with the principal.

Other than that, there's not a lot of interesting things in a bathroom. 

"It will." Monica flips pages from a book, if Kazuto's ears are correct, and he smiles at that.

"You know, this is..."

"Weird? Relaxing? Freeing?"

"Yeah."

Two pages later, Monica speaks again. Kazuto is fiddling with the belt, which is a snake right on the part that connects both ends of it. It's pretty cool, and he's making an effort to keep it clean.

"You didn't answer."

"That's an answer, you know?"

"Stop lying. Coward."

As always, she's saying the obvious. But Kazuto doesn't respond. He pushes the button, and watches the toilet flush down the shit. Maybe he's a coward. He can't tell.

"You wouldn't know which one it is."

He opens the door of his stall and washes his hands.

"Huh. Thanks for the vote of confidence." She stands up, closes the book, and opens the door. "We have to go home, then. The guys—"

"They'll come back at 3. It's barely 2 and a half. They won't bother you. I won't let them."

Kazuto finishes, and goes out of the bathroom. It's brief, but the few moments he does spend out of the place, it's well spent. He grabs his pen, and scrawls a small spiral on his right hand. Then, he writes a small message.

_"Did you have fun? I didn't, just had bad news to share. But that's ok. I'm better now."_

Then, Monica walks behind him, checking the hallways like him. A force of habit, since anyone can come and go at any moment due to the club activities that happen on the afternoon.

Kazuto ignores the stare that he's getting from Monica, and moves forward. The only way out is on the first floor. And neither of them have much energy, so they may as well get out when they can. 

Devoid of color, but the jagged lines on the walls are the only things decorating the halls, making a pattern on the floor, where they intersect and pull and push on each other, like a graph. Also, this is the best way to understand math, watching the floor. For him, at least. It works. More than what he can say.

"I see what you did there."

"Knew it." The small whisper Kazuto gives is what makes her laugh, and they both smile after that.

"Nice. Are you on that stage?"

"Not yet."

"Maybe you should share more. Make it easier for him. The attack of the mysterious spirals won't get better with time, y'know?"

Kazuto scoffs at that.

"I know, you dork." He brushes her hair with his hand, Monica laughs, and Kazuto starts to go down the stairs. "You should stop eavesdropping, it's bad for your health."

"Like coffee? Thanks, dad. I'll make a bank account with your tips to see if that gives me some interest. Who knows?"

He laughs louder. It's almost like a howl, if humans can howl. 

"Idiot."

"But you love me."

His smile turns into a more sadistic one. Monica realizes too late what she's done. Oh, Monica, her mistakes are plenty, and her life was just _too_ short!

"Maybe, but only because you were adopted!"

With that, he runs off, Monica trailing behind him. They're both screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked this chapter, because it starts to set up some stuff that I needed to do. First, Kazuto loses his dance club, which might be a good plot point for later, in case that I forget (and you guys want to know). Also, I'm not really focusing on Darius' parts because they are basically a Canon rethread up until chapter 8-12, bc those are the chapters where new stuff happens since it's an AU.


	7. what are we gonna do about the club?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuto practices with his group, the former dance club, and angsts about friendships.

The cafe smells like home, a piece of sandwich (freshly prepared, he adds in his mind) and strawberries. Why the fruit smell? He can't tell. But Kazuto is there by 2 in the afternoon. The only person he sees is the owner, or a worker, but the first one is more likely. The man looks at him, and it's almost like he is expecting him before Kazuto has the chance to introduce himself.

"Ah! You must be the young man Spencer told me about!"

Yep. He's the owner. Hal. Nice man, friendly smile, open arms, almost looks like he can give a hug and not let go until it becomes uncomfortable for you. Also, he puts a hand on Kazuto's shoulder. It's not noticed by Hal, but Kazuto tightens his fists.

Instinct. He can't avoid that, and contact like this is burning his skin with anger, Kazuto wants to tell him (in the most polite voice that he can use for this situation, if it's appropriate) to stop. Back off.

Thankfully, the contact doesn't last for long, and he's free from the grip on his shoulder.

"Yeah, sorry if I'm late, I—" he's explaining himself to the man, why? It's a habit.

"Don't be, don't be. I feel like you're early enough." Hal gestures to the inside of the cafe, which, to his surprise, already has people in it. "Think I've seen your friends there, so you better get there, okay?"

Kazuto nods. Well, this is easy. Dancing, he knows. And the man's leaving him to his own devices and look, he's not gonna deny the man a good performance, he's already deep into this and thirty minutes that they'll fill to the best of their abilities. 

"I only need to know where the bathroom is, and I'm set."

He's walking towards the insides when the man points to a door at the end of the room, just barely out of sight to pretend like it doesn't exist, but it does, by some sort of luck. Hal gives him a smile.

"Anything else?"

"Nah, I'll ask Spencer if I need anything. I can handle it."

Kazuto leaves Hal alone, just to find himself in front of Chloe, who's sitting down, while she sips from her cup of tea. She's smiling, not rare given the place they're in (out of school, where nobody knows her and they can't judge her). The way she's dressing does seem different from her usual clothing choice, but that's expected when the only people she knows are already Korean pop fans. 

She leans closer when Kazuto sits down, almost as if trying to pass on to him her tea. Nice, he's not rejecting the free tea, but don't they have work to do? 

"You." She points at him, like it's his own fault to get here after her. Or maybe he's just projecting that thought on her. She never says anything about what he's doing, unless he's the one hurting others (it's, most of the time at least, an accident). "We need to talk."

"About the spirals?" Kazuto tilts his head, like a bird, and grabs the tea. Drinks from it, because it's tasty. "Look, I know it's not the best way to do that, but—"

"Not that. The club. What are we going to do about it?"

He plays with the metal straw that she uses to drink all tea. It makes a sound that he can recognize in a second. Bubble tea? Nice. Dance club is thrown away, and he thinks of bubble tea, well, green bubble tea. It's good. He feels the aftertaste in his mouth, even after swallowing the liquid. Sweet, with the balls being the only bitter thing about it, he can't tell why, but it's better for him this way.

"I don't know, Chloe. I'm not making a decision right now. Better to wait and see what happens."

She puts her fist down on the table. Kazuto looks at it. Maybe he should listen with more attention. This is too dramatic for his liking. He lost, fair and square. They're suspended for a week, and all he can do is breathe and pretend that Rose doesn't know about it. In retrospect, they do deserve the punishment.

"Just like that?"

"Yeah." And he nods, lethargic. His movements are slower than usual. Not an effect from the tea, but rather, his own mind processing every little detail of this place. He shifts on the seat. "It's not like we can demand the return of the club. We've already done enough—"

"I know about it. Bea told me."

"She did, then..." Kazuto sighs, and crosses his arms. This conversation doesn't have many options for either of them. "I take it you know what went down there, right? You wanna know my perspective on what's gonna happen to us?"

"The stage is yours, man, I'm just looking for solutions." She leans back on her seat, making a horrifying sound that Kazuto doesn't want to hear ever again.

"Well, the most we can do is practice after school, but that's not gonna be an option. Not enough space..." He drinks more tea, this time he's the one leaning back, and makes an effort to look at her face. Chloe pushes away some of the strands of her blonde hair. "We could try by dividing the groups in different places. Make more use of the sub units to practice efficiently. Although, that also has a problem, now that I think—"

"Solutions, Kaz." She snaps. "So. Lu. Tions. No problems. We'll solve them if we have to. Keep listing, please."

"Okay, okay. Uh, maybe use the group chat to organize when and where we present? Photos and videos don't need much work, well, uh— they kinda do, but it's in post, so that's fine."

Ideas bounce around like bunnies in his head, and Kazuto needs to catch up on what's useful and what's turning out to be a flop. The problem begins when he starts to categorize which one is the best solution to that statement, and how to connect the dots.

"What about the costumes and makeup? Do we have to go out with it, or do we apply it when we arrive? Any ideas on where to present? Keep answering, I'm already writing this stuff."

Ah, that's better. Much better. Easy. Both Kazuto and Chloe relax their postures when the conversation flows.

"Costumes could be made in my house. Uh— if we can, of course, I'll talk to Rose later about this, because she's gonna have my head on a platter after today."

"You didn't tell her, did you?"

"Not yet, she had a Calculus— uh, no, Design History exam. Yeah, design history."

"She'll understand, maybe."

Kazuto looks down. He's frowning now.

"Maybe." He takes a pause after he speaks, and drinks a bit more of the tea, finding a bubble in his straw. He bites it, tasting the bitterness of it. "What if we can't do any of that, though? Are we all drifting apart after this? Is the dance club gonna be really over? I mean, I get that you'll go to an Ivy League or something, but— ah, not saying that it's bad, but— you know... That..."

He always has to speak, right? No filter means that he's less inhibited, but that also implies he's not shutting up about this, either. No, he just drones until he sticks his foot in his mouth. Like an idiot. But he's not wrong about it. That she'll go somewhere else, and leave him. Leave them. It's not what he wants to think about, but he can't avoid it. If—no, _when_ she leaves, that's gonna be the last mail in the coffin for their friendship. Chloe doesn't do stuff lightly, and when she goes through, she won't stop until everything is at the same spot.

If moving far away is the answer, then that means she'll be far away from the rest, and as much distance as she can have between them. 

Chloe remains in silence, her arms crossing over her chest. Teeth clenched, her jaw is applying pressure to her gums. Blonde hair on top of her eyes, protecting them from more analysis.

"I don't know, Kaz. And I wanted to avoid this. Just— uh, just— forget it. College is far away, like, in July and stuff. We're in March. No big deal, right?"

He gets the hint. As much as it takes him, though, he's always a bit late.

"Yeah, I— well, I get that. One day at a time. No point worrying about it.

A small smile appears on her face, but the rest of her body (head, shoulders, legs, hands) doesn't show the same hope. Did he go too far? 

He's not lying, though. His plans are not her plans. And her plans don't involve Crest Haven, either. So the chances that she'll leave to have a better life are high, and so are the chances of her forgetting about him. Life goes on, right? And they're all in senior year. Kazuto's barely old enough to consent, and he's going to college this fall. They don't have much time to be together.

Should he push forward, even if this hangs over their heads? Should he enjoy these few moments of peace before they all go their own ways?

"Kaz..." Chloe's tapping on his hand. "Don't tell me you're starting to think about college."

He nods.

"Look, dad. Kaz, I mean. Uh..." The words don't come easy, because it's not an essay on why they're doing the thing, but rather, trying to reassure each other about their friendship. "We can still talk to each other. And I won't be far away, just, well, at the other side of the country, maybe?"

Other side of the country, like that's not miles away and internet connection is shitty as hell, so that means bungled calls and lack of communication for... what, days or months? Yeah, like that's gonna happen.

"Maybe. But, I don't know. It feels bad to stay here, like I'm just wasting my time in this place, or not feeling that college experience."

The tapping on his hand becomes a soft hand on top of his own. Chloe softens up when this happens, rubs her thumb against Kazuto's. Her hands are cold, like snow, but pretty nails with cat on them make it look more lively.

"If I'm being honest, I'm pretty sad about this, too. Dad won't get to see me, and I'll be lonely when I get there."

"We all are, I think."

"Yeah..."

As much as he wants to keep talking, to vent and air it out, he can't. Too early to dwell on that.

The door to the cafe opens with a jingle (there's a bell on top of the doorway, now that he notices), and Mon—no, Amon enters with their parents, and Bea follows with Hannah behind them. Amon is dressed in the way someone would to hide their gender in plain sight. Baggy clothes, nondescript colors, unassuming, as if it were camouflage. Their ears don't have any piercings either, but hands are tight around themselves. Protection.

Kazuto leans closer to Chloe, and whispers in her ear. A warning? Perhaps, since any misstep and that's it for Amon. Showing any kind of queerness will get them in trouble.

"Remember: keep it neutral." He begins, waiting for her confirmation.

Chloe nods, mood instantaneously sour after noticing the adults in the room. She turns back to face him, faking a smile and acting. She hands him her cupcake (which is still intact after all their talk), and puts it closer to his mouth.

To the rest, they look like a pair of lovebirds, eyes glued to the other, and keeping the rest of the world at arm's length. He does see the way their arms tighten, and Kazuto just wishes that Amon's parents go immediately. He can only make a fist, grabbing the edge of his jeans until his knuckles are white. Both of them exchange the same pitiful gaze because of this.

Chloe shoots a brief glance, almost revealing her soulmarks, full of pink and white (even if it's invisible on her skin, she likes the way they look, and keeps them).

Amon's voice sounds broken, in a way that Kazuto catches in a second. He's been there, he knows. And he can only make this easier for Amon.

"Hey guys..." They raise a hand, and waves. "I heard that we had practice today..."

Kazuto leaves a kiss on Chloe's cheek, and stands up to greet them. 

"Thank you so much for being here, I hope that it wasn't too hard to get to this place!" He starts, for their sake. He shakes their father's hand, and quickly wipes it behind his other hand. "Now that we are all together, we might start practice soon."

"When does it end?"

"Well, we have a performance going on, so we might end late. In that case, Amon can spend the night at my house!"

The answer does satisfy Amon's dad, as he goes and hugs his child (daughter, he wants to say, you have a daughter, but she's so afraid because you'll throw her off in the streets), then, he puts on a smile (like all of them, as if they're lying openly to each other about what they mean with their words, as if, as if, as if) and leaves.

Amon—no, Monica's mother kisses her daughter and leaves after her husband. 

When they're all alone, Kazuto lunges for Monica and hugs her.

"Sorry for that. I—well, you see that I didn't want to... You know, it's your girlfriend, so I can't force her out of the closet either."

"It's okay. I get it." Monica lets go, and then points to the empty spot that they have. "That means we'll have to work harder on our dance steps. So... Who's with me?"

All of them raise their hands.

* * *

The steps are off, his rhythm is unnatural and his enthusiasm dead. Maybe that's what he would say, and he can be right. But at every second, the music prompts him to keep going. He's not alone, either. All of the girls are following the steps, and giving their own personal touch to the choreography, making this dance something better. The player stops, just for a moment, to let them catch their breaths, grab water, and go back to the original formation.

" _Yesterday was such a thriller..._ "

The song keeps going, and the formation breaks, hands up in the air, bounce legs, just like they agreed when they began practicing. Then, spin around. Leave Hannah in the center, Monica is behind him. Chloe in the other side, mirroring his movements.

Move faster, is what the song is implying, the energy must be higher now, as they move their legs, up and down they go, hiding Bea from normal eyesight, until she's the one in the middle, to begin the next step.

Now it's time to make the line, each one of them making a pose as they scatter.

Is this distance enough? He has five seconds to reach the other side of the square (marked by their bags, one on each corner, and Kazuto's on the bottom-right corner). 

He's now facing the wall, next to him is Bea, and Chloe's in the front. They take one step forward, two backwards so they can line up again, and pose. Spin. Scatter.

They go down, and up. Quickly. Next step requires arm movements and hips.

Arms up in the air, and he can start to feel the beads of sweat on his forehead. It's time for the chorus to sound. Bang! And they start to segregate, each taking their spot. Stay in sync, look at the public, even if there's no one there, make eye contact with anything that grabs your attention. 

" _This silent world is gonna find itself with a lot of noise_."

_And even so, what can you do about it?_ The first thing that comes to Kazuto's mind is the image of a certain lion. Ideas start to appear in his head. In one, he's the one making his life hell, like writing words in Japanese to annoy him, make it harder for Darius to predict what he'll do next. What does he think about the words? He hates them, because they ruin his appearance. Well, he'll be glad to annoy him all the way from the Earth until he's underground with his messages.

" _Can you stop me?_ "

He can't. That's the best part of this little game that he has. Unless he gives more clues, Darius has no way of knowing who he is. At least, if he keeps playing his cards correctly. A wrong message at the wrong time, and he's done for. But what are the consequences, really? 

Not enough time to think, the whole group is syncing with the arms. It's a hard step, because he can't tell how the rest are doing, so he needs to trust them. Blind trust, without doubt, is the worst thing about dancing in groups.

The next minute goes by, and he's just more pumped up about the performance than before, it's like entering that secret zone where the only impossible thing is stopping, to make this game stop, he just has to lose his focus. But that's the thing, with this, he won't. 

Once they slow down, Hannah is on the floor, and the word "dangerous" blasts through the speakers, and the rest of the group goes to face her. Hannah's response is to cringe inwards. Just like they practiced. Perfect. If every song comes out in this way, then maybe, just maybe, the send-off for the dance club is what they'll be talking about.

For now, they'll do their best.

The music picks up the pace, and Kazuto grabs the bull by the horns, so to speak. Is that the correct phrase? He doesn't know, English has so many rules he hopes this language dies out. But it won't happen soon, so he might as well get used to it. 

Hands up, move your hips, then repeat the hand movements, until you pull your hair in the air. Move it in an arc (just like that, he does it), and then you'll be done with this dance. 

The title of the song comes again, and repeats when the final formation begins. Right when it's about to be over, the girls at the bottom (Chloe and Bea) flip their hair to the other side.

And the song ends.

Kazuto takes a deep breath, and then he allows himself a break. They all deserve it. Otherwise, they won't last the whole 30 minute presentation. The entire mix is full of performances that they already did before, so that means they just have to retread the difficult steps (or in the case of that song, the whole choreography, because apparently he's the only one who could remember it, hooray for him!). Besides, what time is it?

"Girls, uh... I think it's almost time to get ready." Kazuto points to his phone screen. 

5: 40 PM.

Shit. They spent three hours practicing. Which is not much, by his own standards, but in comparison to what they did last year to practice the same mix (thank goodness that Bea managed to throw together the songs Chloe and Monica requested, as they would have a riot right in front of the cafe), this is double the amount.

"Like really, we have to go and do it right now and I don't know if you have seen the time—"

His hands are shaking when he tries to leave his phone inside the backpack. The sweat is starting to feel cold, too. Well, it's nerves, right? Been a while since he last performed in front of people. And people he knows. Kazuto's pretty sure that Steel Ox is gonna be there (celebrating his pre-season opening, of course), Spencer's gonna be there, too. And Darius. Fuck it all. He's dead, right? Those are three people that he'll have to impress, and there's the chance that Rose comes, too. That brings the total to four which is bigger than three which is bigger than one and oh God what if they fuck up so badly nobody wants to have them anywhere and if they mock them and bully Monica and then he's gonna snap at them while provoking them to fight and they are gonna be so angry that they'll punch his nose and break it and then it's game over for him because breaking someone's nose is a surefire way to kill them if you have enough strength which he is sure that they have in spades and oh God they're all gonna die—

"Kaz! Snap out of it!" He feels a slap coming from someone else, but the voice is unrecognizable. 

Kazuto's not here, please wait three business days until he can answer, the amount of social interactions is already too high and he's not even out of the cafe and there's basically like three people outside and they're not even that bad but what if he's the one who does something to fuck everything up and make it all awkward—

He doesn't recognize color now, everything starts to become blurry and a mess in his eyes as the world moves way too fast for his comfort and he needs a break and a cup of coffee.

Another slap comes after the first one. But it's not from the same hand, this one's softer.

Bea. Oh.

A third slap. He focuses on what's happening around him. He has his backpack on his shoulder. The weight behind him means that he hasn't changed. And there's a pair of hands on his cheeks, too.

"Please calm down." She's holding his face. He's hyperventilating. Her eyes are open, blue and black is what he sees. She has that soft expression that can make a bad kid cry. Maybe he's going to cry. "Did you start to overthink stuff?"

He nods. Jerky movements. His hands don't stop fidgeting, grabbing something for comfort, and there's not a lot he can do to stop that except giving it time to rest.

"It's gonna be fine. If we fuck up—"

"Which will happen." Chloe appears behind him, and he's immediately tense and defensive. Shoulders up, posture ready to throw someone down. 

"As I was saying, in case we fuck up, no one, really, no one will expect it. And they'll think that it's part of the show. Other than that..."

"Don't sweat it, Kaz. We'll do alright, okay? There's a good reason we're the best sub unit out of the previous dance club." 

"Previous dance club, huh..." It's still fresh. How they all joined at the door, and watched Mr. Lionel lock the door, and none of them could properly say goodbye to the room. "I guess so. Maybe we'll do alright."

Bea tries to keep his gaze at the same level.

"Don't focus too much on that, we can't do anything else. It was a matter of time before it happened."

"I know, but..."

"It still hurts because you couldn't save it, right?" Chloe puts a hand on his shoulder. Hannah and Monica are already helping outside. They must have changed after he had the scare. "I can't say that you're not valid because of this, but we can't dwell on this. Just... You can go and draw outside, it'll do you good."

He nods again. This time, he recovers his smile. It's smaller than the usual.

"I know. I'll be ready at seven, okay?" He grabs his backpack and then he heads to the front, where some tables are set, the spaces where they'll dance are already marked and everything is fine. "Try not to take too long outside."

"Take care."

He's almost by the door, when he turns around and goes back for a second.

"Oh, and girls?"

"Yeah?"

Kazuto hugs them all. Well, those who are present, at least.

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that these chapters are becoming longer than usual, and that I have like, no excuse for being late except that I'm still working on chapter 7 (the rest), it's probably gonna be longer because of what I planned to do. Also, college is not going easy on me, so I'm having a bit of stress because of that, and this week (the one when I publish(ed) this) is awful.
> 
> But that's not what I came here for! I wanted to thank for the kudos and the hits you're giving me, and I hope that you're enjoying the story so far, any comments are always appreciated, and I'll let you know that my Twitter (@nobuplushoot) is always open for DMs if you wanna talk, and the same goes for my Tumblr (@nobumcsplash), so don't be shy!
> 
> I'll come back with the rest of the story when I write it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darius and Kazuto kiss in the bathroom, and then he asks a pretty weird question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, do I sound like someone who has his life together? I don't, sorry. I'm bad at writing under a schedule. This chapter is one that I feel makes a start in their connection, before the soulmate bond is revealed, so please enjoy it!

Next time he sees Kazuto, it's when they're both at the bathroom. Darius is pissing in the stalls (the only available place to piss, to his misfortune), while Kazuto is changing in front of the mirror. Darius hears the annoying sound of the body spray, as Kazuto tries to stave off the effects of body odor. 

Honestly, same. He can relate to that.

Darius finishes earlier than what he expects. He's coming out of the stall after hearing the toilet roaring. The only thing he doesn't expect to see, if he's sure about it, is Kazuto applying eyeshadow on top of his eyes.

Black eyeshadow. 

And he's doing it wrong. Goddamn it.

"I didn't know you're the type of guy to wear eyeshadow." He's the first one to point it out. Did Rose ever asked him to do her makeup for her? Or he's just that clueless? It can explain why she sometimes comes to class looking like a mess that had five seconds to fix before someone else comes home.

"Darius, if you're about to say something homophobic because of this—"

"I wasn't." Darius gets closer to Kazuto, while keeping his distance (what Rose said in the car sticks to him like glue). "You know, I thought your sister did her makeup like that on accident, but I can see—"

"Fuck off if that's what you're going to say." He still tries to apply it, only to fail by millimeters. This makes him rage and almost break the pencil. "Fucking hell, this shitty—"

"Don't rage. You're doing it wrong."

"I know! I don't need this lecture. Just let me—"

As much as he struggles to get free, he can't compare. For now, he's stuck between Darius' arms and the wall. He's scowling, but it doesn't have the same effect when he sighs.

"Are you going to behave?"

"Not unless you spank me," he's grinning like a madman. Taking his time, huh? Well, there's not much he can do to escape this, " _Daddy._ "

Except that, of course. He's not— he's not his Daddy, okay? That's saying something more is happening between them, which it doesn't. Okay? He's just... He's more like a guardian, except for the fact that he's not protecting him. And that he's not taking care of Kazuto. Fuck his daddy issues, he's not gonna be that for him.

He starts to laugh when he says that, as Darius wrestles the pencil away from him. It comes out of his hands easily, because he's not trying to fight against him. Meaning that he's not paying attention what he'll do next.

Surprise attack, maybe?

He doesn't need anyone's permission, though. So he goes for it. Kazuto wants Daddy? He'll get Daddy. So much Daddy. He won't want to call anyone else that name. Only for him.

Kazuto has a glaring weakness when he laughs: he's leaving his arms and face exposed. Wide open, like he doesn't care what happens to them. And Darius is gonna make use out of those. So, he grabs Kazuto's shoulder with his hand, and pins him on the wall. Not that hard, really. He can escape, if he wants to do it so badly. 

Now he's leaning closer, almost breathing his body spray. It smells like any deodorant, actually. Full of that plastic, kind of masculine scent. 

They're both looking at each other. Darius' right hand holds his face together.

"Do you want me to be your Daddy?" Darius goes and bites his earlobe, this time, to leave a message for him, "Guess what, kid? I'll make you beg for me to do it."

Before he even thinks of replying, like an instinct, they kiss. At first, it feels like crashing both of their faces together, their teeth clashing against each other. Kazuto's breathing is slower, as if he were calming down (holding it together, so no one else but Darius notices that his heart is beating faster), keeping distance in body (trying to regain control, agency) but not with his mouth.

What he doesn't notice is that his own hands are holding Kazuto's hips, trying to get a grip on his ass. Darius is trying to hold him, while Kazuto wants him to avoid touching his crotch (excited, isn't he?). It's a small game of push and pull, that neither of them want to cede ground.

At most, it feels like years. In reality, it only lasts a few seconds, this... temporary bliss. If he can call it like that. A short stay in heaven before he strolls down the stairway to hell. Maybe Darius deserves it? He definitely does. But a kiss is just a kiss, he says, like always. But is this one different? Or is he just too excited for the forbidden factor?

One thing is fucking with his teachers. More age and experience. Kazuto... Maybe he's a virgin? Most guys his age tend to be.

The way his eyes look, however, tells a different story. Kazuto's cleaning his mouth from any excess saliva from the kiss, using the back of his hands. Yet, he's not blushing. 

Adjusting his bulge (a bit on the small side, but nothing he can't work with), Kazuto leans against the wall of the bathroom, to even his breathing.

"Well, what about it, kid? You still up for that?" No one's ever hurt from kicking someone while they're down, right? There's no danger in this, he thinks.

Kazuto wipes off the spit on his hand with his pants (not the best kind of pants you can have. Leather? Really? They'll shrink after he sweats them off). He's holding his hand, one inside of the other. He looks somewhere else, gaze unfocused.

"Wait. Before you go and try that again... Uh. Let's set rules."

So, he'll want to set boundaries. Perfect. The smile Darius has on his face is the only thing he notices in the mirror, aside from Kazuto's profile. The two of them are standing right in front of the other. Darius wants to take a step forwards, but hesitates when moving his feet. At any moment, he'll retaliate and retreat, so it's best to see what happens and react according to the results.

"I don't think this is the right time for this. But..."

"Is making out fine? I know that you're enjoying it." Darius tries to get closer again, but this time it's not working out for him.

"Don't assume that it works in that way." Kazuto pushes himself off the wall, and walks towards the end of the bathroom, to the door. "I think we should get to know each other."

"And what better way to—"

"I meant talking, Darius. Not sex. Not for now." He's the one who's declining, saying no to the pressure that Darius applies. He knows why he's doing it, and Kazuto smiles because of that. Darius lets him have it, meaning that, for a second, he's letting go. "Have you ever considered my age as an impediment for that?"

Darius follows. When he pushes Kazuto, it's not out of malice, but it's more than just teasing. A secret test of character? For what, exactly? But the pattern remains. Darius pushes his boundaries (still keeping the rules of the game in mind), and Kazuto replies, dry. 

Darius knows that he's not made of stone. And his breaking point is coming sooner.

"Oh, come _on_. Kaz, I'm sure no one will notice you're late."

"They will." He's holding the door handle, but stops. Kazuto turns to face him.

Darius grins.

"Any doubts? You can always... I dunno..."

"Give myself some time, because I deserve it?" Kazuto voices that thought out loud, and when he does, he's not believing it, like a tale he tells for the sake of doing it, a fantasy that won't come true. "It's not what I need right now, you know."

There. So the kid won't be crying about boundaries pushed when he steps out of line. And he'll call him out. Mind you, it's less about him pushing the boundaries, and more about Kazuto being able to know where his limits are. The second one is way more important.

"I get that. Maybe some other time?" 

Kazuto's grinning now, and opens the door. He stops for a few seconds. Then, the look of realization in his face is golden, it makes Darius snort.

"What happened now?"

Pause. He's holding one hand inside of the other, and rubbing.

"I think I forgot my bag, huh."

"Well, who am I to stop you? Get in!" He nudges Kazuto forward, making him almost trip over his own feet. "Do be careful, though. You know that—"

"There are guys worse than me? Yeah. Find me outside?"

He thinks it over. There's a lot of guys he can chat to fuck later, but... Eh, his legs start to feel sore, and standing around in the middle of a bathroom, with Kazuto grabbing his bag and bolting out of the place, and Spencer will probably scold him for an hour. So. He can also leave and come back for the performance. 

Oh. 

The dance lesson he never got.

But Kazuto's gone now. 

Eh, fuck it.

Darius is getting older in this place, and he won't go with Spencer. He opens the door, and makes a beeline for the outside. Maybe getting to know the kid might not be as bad as he thinks it'll be? Yeah, he's cool and everything, but he kinda needs some social life. His friends are not really enough. In his view. He'll do whatever he wants at the end, so he can't bother too much about it.

* * *

"Took you long enough." Darius sees Kazuto sipping from his bubble tea. A green, sort of sick-looking drink. "Stop making faces. Your face will get wrinkles."

And then he snorts. He's an idiot. But it's better than being alone, he thinks. Standing around, checking out guys? It's all fine and dandy, except when they take offense to that one. That's when it becomes awkward (for them, Darius just avoids those situations). Staying with the kid? Priceless. Kazuto doesn't mind as much, and he's cute, to boot. Also, he's not as squeamish as he imagined he would be. Darius notices that the table is actually well hidden from most viewpoints, while keeping tabs on most of the party. Then, he smirks at Kazuto, and leans closer on the table.

"So, how are we gonna get to know each other? 20 questions?" His tone comes across as playful, because, really, he should have expected from a senior student in high school to have such an simple idea about meeting someone and making them answer with sleepover games.

"Yeah! Actually, I'm surprised you knew that."

"I had a high school experience too, you idiot." He flicks his finger at Kazuto's nose. He doesn't react much. "What? It doesn't bother you?"

And he shakes his head. 

"If it does, then Rose would get worried."

"Can't feel pain?"

Kazuto sips again from the tea cup, this time he's nodding along.

"Yeah. Something about nerves not connecting or whatever, I don't remember the exact terms for that, but I'll get there," he looks around, unsure if he can say that, Kazuto holds one hand close to his mouth, "hopefully."

"Ah, I see..." He's not really seeing anything, but the first idea that comes to his mind... "Wait, if someone tried to do anal with you, and you were receiving, would you feel pain for that?"

"No. Doesn't work like that." Kazuto leaves

"Doesn't work like that?" Darius gives a sheepish smile, while moving his hand on the table to grab the bubble tea (he can drink to distract himself from the awkward silence that follows, but it's not something he can avoid since Kazuto makes no effort to continue, nor chastise him). "Uh. Sorry. Guess that wasn't the best idea to start with."

Kazuto makes a gesture, almost as if saying that it's not important. 

"Don't sweat it. I've been asked worse." Like changing gears, Kazuto goes to the next point. "I mean, there are worse questions than that. At least yours is... well, unique to you. Anyway, my question."

"Shoot."

"If you could die in any way, which one would it be?"

He can hear the record scratch, at someone's place. Is this real? He's not— he's not asking that, for sure. Darius laughs, but avoids to look straight at him.

"I'm sorry... What? Did you just—?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not, that tells you a lot about the person."

"I dunno, sounds weird."

There's not a lot of people, to his surprise. While the tennis team has its... secret admirers, if he's honest, most of them won't bother with this event. Not a lot of fun in dancing with the music, maybe? He can understand.

He's not the best at it, either. And a small pang of jealousy fills his heart whenever the idea of someone else (another guy) dancing crosses his mind.

It's best to avoid it. 

"Well...? I can always change, uh, change the question. Make it a different one—" He begins explaining himself, almost like covering up his own mistakes by shoving his foot inside his mouth.

"Don't. I'll tell ya, okay?" Darius cuts that off, and holds one of his hands near his forearm. "I think if I die, it would be skydiving. Crashing against the ground. Bones broken, blood spread out. You know, that sort of thing."

Kazuto seems to light up. Okay, he's a bit of a creep now. Better make a habit of not touching that topic around him.

His answer just leaves him reeling.

"That's more adventurous than most people. I like that."

Wait. So people never answered with that? Of course. He's just that weird.

"And what about you?" Darius finds himself asking this, the itch of learning overcoming everything else in his mind.

Kazuto laughs after that, unprompted. The worst part of it, is that... He likes that sound. A bit. Just a bit. It's fun and energetic, like a battery. And sunshine, but he didn't say that out loud. Otherwise, Spencer will not let this one go. 

Well...

At least, being with the kid means that he gets to share some quiet time, alone in a crowd. He can always do the same old thing when he's alone, but, for him, maybe he'll spare some time to share. It's not like he can't stop him from being around, right?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, you can have more than one soulmate. As a treat.

When he finishes the last step, they all pose for the end of the song, the whole performance, their work, is over now. They have finished, and while doing so, they're all drenched in sweat, satisfaction, and the empty feeling of a victory. You and I is the last song they dance for the day.

Kazuto pants, almost unnoticed by the untrained eye, but his shoulders are sore, and his arms shake when he tries to move them. He's been lifting the girls for at least two hours this day. The heaviest is Chloe, with all of her cupcakes that she eats in a day, and God, does she eat a lot of those. Surprisingly, the lightest is Bea, which means that she's been doing exercise (or she's taking the Rose route, and if she does, then Kazuto will send her to therapy for that), and Monica is the middle ground, along with Hannah, who's in the cheerleader team now (he's not surprised for that, he knows she deserves it, because there's not a lot of girls who can do acrobatics like her), so she must be used to this.

He can't say anything else, as the crowd roars with excitement. That giddy feeling, like soda pop bubbling up in his stomach, comes back with a vengeance. In the same spot Darius touched him. 

As if he wanted to fuck up his breathing for a lifetime. He's taking double breaths instead of one. 

God, he'll end up filling that man's fur with dicks, if that was the purpose of that act. But, he can't tell. He doesn't know what's going on with Darius, as in, inside of his head. It must be interesting, to keep double faces when talking to people he knows and meets everyday. He can only infer from what he sees when talking to him.

He has a bit of an idea about him forming in his brain, but he doesn't want to let it grow. The Darius at the table is different from the one in the bathroom. That's what he has in knowledge about Darius (thinking about it as currency, he's not rich, since he plays with him, sometimes, and his words' credibility tends to be shaky when there are more than two people involved, so he's not poor, either).

* * *

"If I could say one, would be asphyxia." Kazuto leaves the drink on the table, looks at Darius. He's not noticing the way his posture mirrors Kazuto's. 

Hands in front of his body, making a sort of triangle between the torso and his hands. Invisible, but Kazuto catches up on that. His grin is quick to appear, the same way that his eyes look at Kazuto's face, searching for any reaction.

"Wow." Darius lets out a short laugh, but Kazuto keeps on studying him. "Didn't expect you to get dark. Care to explain why? Might illuminate me with your knowledge."

Beat. Kazuto drops a hand on his leg. His fingers trail along the surface of the leather, massaging his poor legs, that must be suffering under the material. Soon enough he'll be able to replace them with normal pants. Not supposed to be used for this. Longer periods, he means. It's just a show-off thing.

"Uh, you would... Maybe you wouldn't, but that's fine—uh—"

"Don't be shy! I don't judge you, okay? I mean, yeah, it's kinda fucked up, but my death sounds fucked up, too..." The way his voice trails off makes Kazuto uncomfortable, almost like an alarm of sorts.

Why does he ignore it, then? Is it a case of boundaries? Does he want to push for it? The answer is not the most committed to learning this knowledge, but Kazuto is not the most adequate to ask and analyze it. Chloe is better than him at that.

"I think it would be because of the helplessness, I think? If you try to fight while you're being choked, it just gets worse... At least, that's— well. You know the rest."

"Uh-huh..." Darius is staring right through him, and his voice sounds deeper.

He's fucking this up, too. Change it fast, Kazuto. Unless he wants to ruin this like he ruins parties. Well, this is already a party, so he's in his element. There's not a lot that he can do to avoid an awkward situation, right? That's what he thinks.

Silence. There's a few moments in which none of them talk much, but they don't last long.

"Next question." Kazuto is talking again, which means that he has lost time in his head, but Darius doesn't mind. That's... Strange. "Which turn was it? This one can't count, for obvious reasons."

"Yours. I think."

"Great, thanks. Uh—uh, I think I have one." He starts to hum one of the songs to stall for the idea to come back to him. "I know! If you could master a skill, for the sake of doing it, for love, not because it can make you money or that you can't do since you don't have time or the materials, which one would it be?"

Darius lifts one of his legs, showing the same spiral that he left a day ago, and hasn't wiped off his own body. It fits him, the red socks he's using. How would he look without the shorts—? 

Nope. He's not going there. This isn't the time. Bad questions have to be for later. Not now. Definitely not now that he can see how his thighs look, and how much he wants to be crushed by them. And his tennis shorts aren't helping much to hide Darius' legs. 

God. He's going to fill his fur with dicks next time he can get away with it. And maybe wash his eyes with bleach, now that he's aware of it. If only there was a forget beam so he could experience it again.

"Weird question, but okay." He taps the table at the rhythm of what Kazuto was humming before. "I think it would be playing piano."

"We know this one doesn't count, but, you—?"

"Yeah, I love piano. Easy to do, mindless, and it's quite nice."

Beat, Kazuto looks to the other side. Still paying attention to Darius and his amazing legs. 

"It is..."

A beat. People pass by, they don't listen to them. It's almost like they're ignoring whatever goes on in this place. Secluded, a table way out of the center of the party, yet Kazuto and Darius can hear the music blasting through the speakers. Maybe they just see Darius' calves and believe that he and Kazuto are dating already (which is ridiculous, right? No one would go straight to dating). The smell of the wet pavement still lingers on his nose. And Darius' tail is flicking again, this time it goes to his fingers, just right where he can grab it and pull.

He doesn't.

And he can't expect what comes out of Darius' mouth.

It's the sight that amazes him, in the same way that watching something forbidden does. It's not pornographic, but rather, suggestive. But the image is enough to think about stuff, and thinking is how he gets to the fantasy where he's accepting Darius' offer on the spot.

"Like what you see?" Darius exposes more of his leg. Well, not _more_ of his leg, exactly, but rather...

Uh, how does he phrase this? He's exposing cleavage for the guys. Part of his jockstrap is hanging out, only for him to see, but not for the rest of the world. It's customized teasing for Kazuto.

And it's unfair. So unfair. Life is suffering, because by the time he catches a better glimpse, it's gone.

"Guess I'll take that as a yes, right?"

Pause. Scratch record goes in here. Can anyone put stop to this part of the recording? No? Well, that's it for Kazuto. He's almost reaching the short-circuit moment, where he can't think straight (or gay, or like, at all) because his hormones would likely take control of the narrative.

But that's fine. He's fighting himself, and looking once more doesn't hurt, right? 

It does. He's admitting some sort of defeat, maybe? Or it's just him that tries to punch himself in the gut for being an idiot. This is awful, like the moment your brain throws you a fantasy that you know you can't fulfill, yet... 

"You okay, Kaz? Can't handle the heat?" He's not teasing him, is he? His tone doesn't indicate that, and his posture is similar to Kazuto's.

Mirroring. Kazuto's sure that Darius didn't notice that he's doing it. Subconsciously, at least. Does this have to do with the soulmate bond? Having this _innate_ feeling that they are the person for you, even if you don't realize it? 

Feels close to mind control, actually. Or he's just imagining things.

"Uh— wait. Did you say something?" Kazuto's question comes out more apologetic than he wants it to be. That's alright, he can't blame Darius for being mad at him because he distracted himself from the conversation. "Sorry, I just—"

He sees Darius lean more into him, the cup of tea still sitting between the two, but now Darius has it on one of his hands. 

"That's fine. Don't sweat it." Darius adjusts the jockstrap, so it disappears from human view. 

Sad, but he can't do anything else, and Darius could get caught for inappropriate behaviour. 

At least, that's what Kazuto thinks.

The alarm in his phone sounds, a Spanish band playing as the tone.

Kazuto groans, throwing his head back on the chair's backrest, and puts his hands on top of his face, dragging them through it.

"Must be time to dance, huh?"

"Yeah, we all know it. God... I kinda wanted to keep going, you know?"

The grin he receives from Darius is enough to make him regret saying that sentence. Okay, so he's handing these innuendo set-ups for free, yeah? But— it's not... Fine, it is a bit just to hear what he'll say, even if it's old news to Kazuto.

"I think I could have done more if we had more time, if—"

"I think I know what you're talking about it." Kazuto replies, standing up, and stretching his arms and legs. He turns to face Darius. "Maybe you should get in the front of the action, you'll get to see better."

"Yeah." Darius pats Kazuto's shoulder, for a longer time than what he's used to. "I've left my number on the table, so feel free to talk to me if you want. Maybe we could get something to eat one day?"

"That... That sounds fine."

"Cool. Now, go off!" The way Darius pushes him forward is far more friendly than what he wants to think. 

It gives Kazuto energy to do it.

* * *

When Kazuto is off the stage, he finds that the girls are near him, almost in a circle. He feels his leather jacket sticking to his chest, and it's not the best feeling, rather, it's one that's making him more anxious, and it's starting to make his skin feel itchy.

He needs to get out of here. Now.

"That was an awesome performance, right guys?" Chloe is looking at the entire group of Iota Four, and also one extra from Delta Three, but it's not like he's keeping track of it, and it won't matter anymore, too. Geez... It's still hard to adjust for that sort of thing. "We had a few mishaps... But! That's okay, mistakes are part of the experience, and well..."

Kazuto steps up, and hugs them, at least, what he can do with his arms. He's shorter than most of the dance club, so that's the sad news.

"It was one hell of a ride dancing with you." The way he smiles is just what makes it worse for them. "I— I'm really proud of how far we've come. You know—"

Hannah interrupts him.

"I have to say something."

Then it's Bea who raises her hand, almost waiting for her turn. Is this the moment where everyone admits their plans after high-school? Even if it were, Kazuto wouldn't mind, if he could stay in this day. Just for a second. 

"I also have to talk, if you don't mind, Hannah." She turns to face Kazuto and hugs him harder than most of the girls would do. There's a lot of warmth in her feathers, and how soft they are, it makes Kazuto wish for more time with her. "I'm sorry for this. That we'll all go on our own ways."

"What do you mean?" Kazuto whispers against her chest, not looking up.

"It means that we won't be able to rest after this. As nice as it is..."

"I'll go back to California, dude." The apologetic expression Hannah has on her face is enough for Kazuto. He doesn't want this, could be in denial but he doesn't react much. Can't show how he feels, otherwise he'll break and this is just too soon, right? There's still some time left and the college interviews and exams can't separate them. "And I don't know about Sophie, but I think she got a scholarship for an Ivy League, too."

"Huh, I didn't think she would manage to do it..." Chloe pipes in, too. Because she's also one to leave. Most of the club does, now that he thinks about it.

Not his fault, but why does he feel like his eyes are burning?

They all stop hugging, and they stand in a circle, by themselves.

In this night, they should be happy, or is that just what he needs to tell himself about it? Does he like the sabotage? If he can be honest for a second, he could say that this was going to happen sooner or later, he knows that fact. These days don't last forever. 

"Yeah, that's... That's awesome..." Kazuto says, smiling (even if it feels like forcing his mouth to do it, and his whole body screams for him to stop). That's okay, he'll be fine. New friends he can make during college, right? 

Monica steps closer to where Kazuto is, her jacket blowing with the cold air. Even in March, it's present.

"Do we all have plans for leaving after high school? I don't, well, I don't know if those plans will happen." Monica admits through clenched teeth, looking at the rest of the girls, who start to talk between themselves. 

Not out of malice, because they're too excited about their dreams coming true, that they forget the two of them. That's fine, too. Chloe and Monica are soulmates, so she has her back. Hannah and Sophie are soulmates, too. Bea doesn't, for a fact. And she never will. Her skin doesn't accept the ink, or anything to write over her.

"It still feels like hell, right?" It's what he settles for, instead of outright admitting his own pain. "Watching them being happy... I want to make them happy."

The wind blows, and Monica's jacket reacts accordingly. Kazuto remains quiet, looking at the horizon. This shouldn't be a big deal. But it is. A change in what he sees as his normal routine is happening, like a poison, corrupting every part of his life, slowly, but in that amount that allows him to die without realizing.

He's not really seeing them, but rather, how they'll be in the future. It's not what he wants, yet he still hopes that they succeed.

"Even if it hurts you... I think you're right? Because this small city can't hold all of us."

"I know. In a place like this—"

"There's no spot for us?" Monica looks at him, and her eyes are vulnerable, open to interpretation for other people. Her arm seeks his hand. Kazuto accepts the offer.

"I would say that there's no rest for the wicked, but that didn't make sense. Yours is better."

"Yeah." And they stay quiet. Walking to the table to sit down is enough work on its own.

"I wish this didn't have to happen."

"But it will. It was supposed to." Monica looks away, when they're at the table. The waiter asks for their order, and Kazuto says tea and Monica orders for both of their stomachs.

Looking at the crowd, enjoying themselves, is what makes his heart burn, like a wildfire. It's worse when this is how he sees the rest of the world. Painted red, and blue.

Kazuto starts to remember why he wanted out of this, but the comfort of the table and the order are keeping him bound to the table. It's a spell made to talk for longer, and what he wants doesn't really matter. If he could stay for a few hours in leather, he can try to stand more time in there, right?

He wonders if he has plans for the future. But then, he doesn't know if they'll be fulfilled. Or if he has to worry about them. After all, they're all together for a few months. What's supposed to change in that long amount of time?

* * *

Okay. So he's been ignoring his own body asking for help, and that's his fault. He's an idiot, he knows, Mom. Kazuto is still struggling with the leather pants, and they're definitely not cooperating with him. Kind of like they're hugging his body so much, that taking them off is not a correct description of what he wants to do.

It might be more accurate to say that he's peeling it off his body. 

And it's not fun, since staying in your underwear and socks, while he's on the floor of the bathroom, and looking at the fluorescent light and sick-looking baby blue and light green that decorate this room just makes him want to leave at this moment.

He doesn't hear the door open, at all. Because he's an idiot.

That is, until the voice that comes out of nowhere speaks.

"Uh, do you need help?"

He looks at the direction that the voice comes from. 

There's a crocodile in front of him. Well, it's not really a crocodile, but rather, a reptile. Stupid brain, too. The guy's standing there, looking at him like he's some sort of idiot (that's already been established, Kazuto, he doesn't need to see you to know that), and having one hand on the back of his neck.

Kazuto sighs. This is so lucky for him. Definitely.

"Please?" Kazuto replies, still struggling against the cold floor.

"You're close to harming yourself." The guy crouches down to his level, and grabs the other end of the pants. "Please don't fight back, this will probably hurt."

"Boy, do I have news for you..." Kazuto tries to fight back against his instinct to laugh out loud at that (most of the time it's people trying to tell him that something hurts, but it's not how Kazuto sees, or rather, feels things). "I can't feel pain, go ahead, man."

"If that's what you want, then I don't see how can I stop you.

He doesn't react much, other than a simple nod. Then, he starts to count to three in a low voice, and then he starts to pull them out of his body.

All in all, a normal day. Night, or whatever. He's not taking this into account.

Once it's done, and he feels the cold on his legs, Kazuto stands up to see the crocodile (lizard/dragon or whichever reptiles he's made of) standing up in front of him, the pants in his hands, neatly folded.

Huh. His hands, while big, are delicate with whatever he touches.

"Ah, sorry if I was rougher than usual. I'm not used to this kinds of struggles."

Kazuto makes a gesture to indicate that it doesn't matter, then goes for his bag. That's when he hears the guy take a piss. It's kind of normal, in comparison to what happened. And how the two of them were staring at each other's eyes... No. Not the time. This isn't a romantic movie. Bad Kazuto. Not on the carpet.

"Don't worry. I'm kinda used to this."

"Being manhandled?" The slight shift in tone makes Kazuto shrug.

"Not really." He's taking off his jacket (without the t-shirt, which he forgot when he was in his house), and leaving it in the same place as the pants, but not folded. "I meant the privacy thing."

"Sorry." He's stopped pissing a few moments ago. While it could be somewhat strange, Kazuto is already immune to that. Shame must be eliminated at every moment. "If I was..."

"Don't be, man. Uh, right. Didn't know your name. Kazuto's mine. Wish we could have met in better conditions. 

"Dozer. Nice to meet you."

When Kazuto starts to put his pants on, he sees Dozer washing his hands. As any distinguished gentleman should do. It's not too long before he stops the water running. But he's not really doing much after that. Dozer's just looking at his hands.

"Are you... waiting for something?" Kazuto is testing the waters in this moment, with that question. He's half-dressed with an orange t-shirt on. He's trying to keep his balance while putting on the jeans he brought (almost forgotten like his other shirt, the one he was supposed to bring. Thank God for Bea, indeed). 

"Not really." 

Kazuto hears the pen being opened, and straightens his posture. The jeans stop being a nuisance. He makes a swift pass for how he looks. It's fine. He needs to pay more attention at Dozer, though.

Curiosity kills cats. 

"Your soulmate? What are you going to write? Will it be something cool? Or you're just going the easy route and make a sappy message for them?"

The words don't make much sense to Kazuto, since he can't see them clearly, but the only thing he recognizes is the fact they are written in English. Which is good. English is almost universal.

"Something to differentiate them from the others. I think you should go outside, though." Dozer caps the pen, and stores it in his pocket. He starts to walk out of the 

"Yeah, but you don't seem like a bad person to hang out with..." Even if it's inside a bathroom, he adds in his mind. There's something strange in him if he keeps meeting people in bathrooms. "Anyways, would be cool to talk to you in another time."

That makes Dozer crack a smile. Small, though. It's almost unnoticeable. Both of them see each other across the room.

"Can you give me your number, then? If that's what you want."

"Yeah. Just— lemme—" A cold sensation creeps through Kazuto's hand, almost making him lose balance. He puts his hand on the wall to stabilize himself, and finds out what was written on Dozer's hand.

_XXX-678X. that's my number. any moment you want to talk, feel free to text._

"Fuck!" Kazuto covers his mouth after he says that. Dozer immediately turns around.

This is impossible. He can't— he shouldn't— he's not supposed to have more than one soulmate! Kazuto covers his mouth, which is open now, and looks between his hand and Dozer's. Red ink is on his skin, spelling the message clearly.

"So... I take it you're not thrilled by that, right?" Dozer's smile is apologetic in nature. As if he were saying sorry just by doing it. He rubs the back of his neck, while looking at the wall by his right side.

"I'm not— not saying that. God..." Kazuto tries to wipe it off his skin, to see how resistant it is. It doesn't leave his hand. Dozer's number is still there. Which is for the best. "I'm mostly— just— well... You see, I already have one soulmate..."

"Darius?"

"Yeah— I mean, wait—"

And now Kazuto makes a double take, while he's stunned. Paralyzed. Is this the moment when he realizes what he's done before? The spiral never faded from his leg, Kazuto remembers. 

Oh, fuck. Oh, _fuck_.

A moment of silence passes, Dozer trying to find the words to apologize or explain, and Kazuto looking for a better explanation. None of them realize how much time they're taking, of course. Because this isn't really a therapy group, so there's no one to filter the bullshit except themselves.

"I was, you know, I was sure that Darius was my only soulmate. Didn't think I could have _more than one_ , now that I think about it." Kazuto places a hand on his chin. "Guess it's for the best? I think? There are some questions I have for this, but I guess they'll be answered later."

"What do you propose we do with this, then? Do we just... jump in each other's arms and kiss?"

They both laugh at that. 

"Maybe for tomorrow, not thinking clearly in this moment. Sound good?"

"You could say that." Dozer lifts a hand to pat Kazuto's head, then, he turns around and leaves, but not before speaking. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Kazuto. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, have a nice night, too..." Kazuto's train of thought, as well as his speech, trail off after he hears the door close. 

There's not much to do, now that he's alone and in silence. Kazuto picks up his bag, realizing that his attention goes straight to his hand. The red clashes against everything else on his body. God, he met both of his soulmates (will he have a new one tomorrow? So he can prepare mentally for another guy talking to him in a bathroom) today. Unbelievable. 

He snorts before leaving the bathroom, shaking his head. This was a pretty eventful day, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This chapter was a doozy, to be honest. I didn't have any good way to put all the things I wanted in this chapter, because this one is pivotal to the story, in some ways. Or at least I feel like it was important. 
> 
> Also, I realized that, while making this, my word count, as well as my chapter count and plans, ballooned up to 55-60 chapters, again. But that's alright, at least I have more content to give you guys!
> 
> You can see why I was looking forward to this chapter, if you understand what I mean.


	10. the thought and the message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuto and Dozer speak through the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, do I have anything to say in my defense? No. I'm sorry if I couldn't bring the new chapter out earlier. BUT! I'm already here, with more content, and maybe in the future I'll be more consistent with updates.

The first message Kazuto leaves is not a happy one. It's a cry for help. Kazuto writes without concern for what anyone else will think, as it's just a private message on his skin. And if someone notices, then he can pretend he's barely received the message. For a family full of Receivers, it's a surprise someone out of the Black line came out as a Writer. Most of the men are outsiders, from other families. Call it luck, or maybe it's just a prophecy or whatever, but whenever they decide to have children, it's always a mixed child, and Receivers, most of the time. His father wasn't a Writer, either.

And yet... Here he is. A Writer that fooled himself into thinking he's a Receiver.

The first message says, in black ink: "The full moon's out, huh? It's going to be a restless night for me. I can only remember his words and how we can't speak anymore. It hurts. Do you have a wound like that? A wound that's still open like mine?"

It's two in the morning, and what Kazuto wants is to run away from this place, somewhere far away, with only a clue to his whereabouts. But the clue's unfair. And the time, the place and methods are unknown to himself, even.

He's kicking off the blankets now. There's too much heat inside. The windows are unable to be opened, so that's a moot point. Even if he looks, the only thing that he can see outside is Cresthaven's business district, and how he looms over it. Unfair. It's unfair that this city is free. Unrestricted, yet it's cutthroat, in a way that he can't be. There's too much inside him that's becoming softer with time, as he lets the people next to him closer.

Will it be worth it to let him in, too? To let both of them in?

Now that he thinks about it, how much time has it been since his mother decided to let him go? One, two years? When the wounds are open and raw and bleeding like they always do when she causes them?

A broken bird with broken wings, he thinks back to the only book that he managed to read four years ago. 

Why does the thought of falling seem so appealing right now?

He—he has to stop. Dance everything away. At least, she left him with a good method to relax and unwind. It's one of the few nice things about her. And even then, she knew how to make it seem like Kazuto's going to need this in the future, whether by choice or not.

Yet, his brain is still running in circles, and he can't find a way out of it.

It's a cycle he can't break out of. In between the thoughts of falling, there's an undercurrent of white noise. Like a shredder breaking down paper until it's just a bunch of fragments. He's just sitting on the bed now, immobilized by his own thoughts and how they scream back at him.

The cold sensation appears on his arm, right between the spirals in red ink.

**I have. You okay, tho?**

He snaps out of it. Everything seems to halt, as the heat seems to trap him inside this room. Kazuto gets out, like it's the plague in his only safe space. The marker in his hand, with the only safe outlet for himself in the living room.

Why does he leave it there? It's not like Rose's using it much these days. But still, it feels like a courtesy for the sake of saying thank you.

He writes back when he's on the couch. The laptop is open and turned on, with a black and white (wrong choice for a wallpaper, but that's fine) pattern as a desktop wallpaper. 

_Mostly. Thinking right now. Is it fine if we speak like this?_

He erases from his leg the first message he sent this day. It's useless now. And it doesn't feel like it has to be seen by anyone else. Darius wouldn't know what was it if he's correct in his guess. Not like he'll say anything about it in front of him. 

**Is it better if we speak through the phone?**

_don't see why not. my number is XXX-X754-XXX_

He waits for an answer, while the first paragraphs are written. None of the words make sense for him. It doesn't matter as much, if writing it is simply for the sake of throwing the mess on the page, and making sense always comes in second place after this. Just. Place them, and then you'll understand yourself.

The phone in his pocket rings. It doesn't go past the first ring before he's pushing the call button.

"Hello?" The voice at the other side is disgruntled. Like he was pulled out of his sleep not too long ago.

"Uh—I could, you know. I could let you sleep, with how you sound, doesn't seem like, uh, like you wanted to wake up." Kazuto's quick to apologise, and even though Dozer can't see what he's doing, his hand moves in defense. 

"No, no... I'm fine right now. It's four in the morning, either way." 

"Still, don't you have college?"

Kazuto hears a pause between the two statements.

It's short, but things like this always feel heavier when he's the one experiencing this. Time stretches for longer when it's not around others. Like the way a class keeps everything in a standstill, freezing over the whole concept of life.

He's never ready for that sort of question.

"Were you unhappy before calling me?"

He's quiet. For a few seconds, at least. His leg starts bouncing, and Kazuto debates the idea of leaving him for a while. But he stops himself before he even dares to act on it. There's that sinking feeling in his stomach, when his heart is beating fast, and he feels heavier, as if gravity were pulling him down, with everything it has.

If he's going to back out of this, then why go all the way to call him?

He's biting his thumb before he decides to tell him. At least, someone has to know about that. Someone outside of Rose.

"Yeah. But it's a bit of a long story." Kazuto's voice comes out and it's weaker than usual, deeper, but it falters and cracks in obvious moments. "Do you want me to tell you?"

"I don't see why not. Every scar has a story."

A pause, both of them sigh.

"And I want to know about yours, if you want me to understand."

The thoughts keep coming, but what Kazuto decides on doing is, slowly, begin explaining a small bit of his personal history.

* * *

"Well, it, everything starts a few years ago... Uh, sorry, could you ask me questions to put this in perspective?"

"Like an interview?"

"Yeah, yeah. That thing. It's useful. Makes me, uh, not go off topic. Keeps me in place."

A pause. Dozer laughs at the other side of the line.

"I don't mind if you're talking about anything. You're not that boring, as far as I know."

"Should I—Uh, should I take that as a compliment? Things like that put more pressure on me. Like I'm supposed to perform."

"Perform for whom, exactly?"

"Perform for people like you, or Darius."

"Is there anything wrong with performing for us?"

Kazuto draws blood from his finger, with how hard he's biting it. The metallic taste feels bittersweet in comparison to what his mind is thinking. A storm, coupled with the shredder noise that he's already used to.

It's annoying, but it's not something he can't handle. He hits the border of the couch with his finger, drawing even more blood from it, and it starts to drip blood in small drops.

"There is." Kazuto lets go of his finger. He pushes the place where he's bleeding on top of his knee, just to feel his nerves react to that. "I don't, you know, I don't like to act like I'm not myself around you. Like, you see that I have masks, depending on who I'm talking to, you know?"

"I get that. Why would you say that, though? We're always acting different around others."

"So, I want to have the least number of masks when I'm around you, or when I'm with Darius. Or both of you. But, I guess, I guess that's impossible."

"Yeah, we're not the same always, and it's not a thing you can practice or do unless you know yourself."

"And yet, I try to be as honest, and open, as I can. Otherwise, I just, well, lose it. It's hard to keep lying to other people."

Like her. As if he were constantly making a story out of nowhere for the sake of survival. Every little twist and addition becomes part of his personal history with his mother. She's constantly inspecting every detail that doesn't fit in the slightest.

It always comes back to that topic. Even if he wants to avoid it, it's almost as if that's the source of all evil. 

"Someone else pushes you to do that, I suppose."

Kazuto remains silent. It's the small victories that count. This one isn't. It feels like admitting he's weak.

"I understand." Dozer's voice is even, almost like a friend who's trying to tell you how everything's going to be fine. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"I'm fine."

It's a simple answer, like everything he gives now. There's a silent moment in between. Kazuto is playing with his fingers, feeling the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

"I could... Could I see you when you finish practice today?" His voice is hesitant, like the sole fact of asking is enough to discourage him from doing this. It's how his heart beats faster and his nerves are eating him from the inside, looking to have more and more control over him.

Dozer ends up laughing for a second. 

"Why? We've been barely talking for two weeks."

Perhaps it's because their walls have been breaking down for a moment, if only, they have a few bricks here and there, thrown around the floor, where they stand divided.

This is a dance that he's doing with himself, when he's thinking. The answer to that question is not what he wants to say out loud, in front of his mother, even his sister remains in the dark about this fact.

Does he want her to know? Maybe. But the risk associated with that is enough to make him question if that's correct for him. If survival is more important to him than his family. This feels like stabbing Rose's back with a dagger, as he runs away.

That's just how secrets like this work. When you're not safe, you end up hiding. Like the ever-growing pile of adult manga he keeps under his bed and inside of his backpack, and in the middle of his folders, with the pages cut off and in between the drawings he makes.

He's stalling, he knows. But at the same time he's looking for validation and it's frustrating.

"Because, uh, because I want to have time with you? Is that, you know, a good answer?" He leans forwards to the table, where the laptop remains open, with the blinking cursor reminding him of the work he has to do. "I dunno. I thought, I, well, I thought this might be a good idea. To get to know you better."

"But I'm not that interesting."

Kazuto huffs. What's up with these guys and their self-deprecation? 

"You are. There _has_ to be something you're interested in. Gardening, maybe? You know, there's a thing you have to do in the time that you're not practicing tennis or working."

A pause. The small sound of approval that comes from the other side of the call makes Kazuto dizzy, and leaves him smiling.

"How did you know?"

"I just guessed, you know. People tell me I have a good intuition, but I just call it being good at guessing."

The next confession is what leaves him with interest. 

"You know? I have a lot of plants in my house. I could, I could show them, if you want."

The smile Kazuto has on his face is impossible to erase.

"Really? Now I won't be able to sleep because of that." He adjusts the cellphone to stay wedged between his shoulder and his ear. "See what you did? You made a young man lose sleep for this. You'll pay for it..."

The threat is just followed by a long laugh at this, which is also something that Dozer follows.

"Maybe it's time that we go back to sleep, though, I'm tired again." He's punctuating that with a yawn.

Kazuto does the same thing out of reflex. He whines after that.

"I don't want to..."

"Then that means I'll just go to your house and—"

"And fuck me 'till I'm—"

"I can see why Darius is your soulmate." Dozer cuts him off. "You're both perverts."

"Hey! I'm taking offense to that." Kazuto's voice raises in pitch, if only to show that he's still developing. Dozer starts laughing at him. "It's not that funny, man. Also, I'm not a pervert. Uh, just joking, really. I would like you to do another thing..."

"Like what?"

Kazuto stays quiet, his face starts to get red, as he looks to the floor. Hands are sweating now, they have been for a while. 

"Tucking me in bed, and saying, uh, saying good night?"

A small hum is all he receives from the other side.

"I can't do it physically, but I can tell you good night."

It's tender, the gesture. And one that warms Kazuto inside. He feels as if he's going to boil at any point, like his whole body is on fire. Are his thoughts going to be filled with Darius and Dozer for the rest of his life? Maybe, but he's not counting on it. However, he wouldn't mind if it were the case for him.

"That's... Uh. Thank you. Good night to you, too."

"Remember that I care about you. And Rose, too." Dozer pauses at the other side of the call. "Even if it doesn't seem like it."

The call ends, a few moments later. Kazuto sighs, leaving the phone on top of the coffee table, right next to the laptop.

Well, at the very least, he can keep writing the fanfic. And maybe sleep in fifteen, well, uh, no, thirty minutes after that. He's alone in the room again. And no one else is awake at this hour.

"I guess I'll tell you more when I'm ready." He says, as the words start to come out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is definitely one that I liked because of the way dialogue is used. Tell me if you liked it too! I'm not going to bite you, more likely, I'll end up screaming about how much I love you for commenting here.


	11. masks and good guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuto and Darius make an advance with their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I'm just gay for these two acting like they're walking on eggshells around each other. Methinks. Is this self-indulgent? Does this make sense? I think it does, but I don't know who might agree with me. I hope you enjoy this, too.

"I guess I'm not late for some classes, am I?"

The door opens, and Darius finds Kazuto on the other side, looking as if he just woke up. Black and red ink fills his arms in different patterns. Some of them even reach his neck. Darius wants to reach out and touch them, if only to feel them. How they would look when Kazuto is tired and broken and trying to fix himself when there's nothing else to repair.

What's the price to break those walls, he thinks. He knows that Kazuto is lying through his teeth whenever the two of them talk. Maybe, not as much as today, but he's yet to determine that.

Like he's holding out something in front of him, and he's still unaware about it. A bait, waiting for him to close the trap and mock him? Is he holding himself as the non-threatening boy to get him to lower his guard? 

And even if he does, should that make him evil for thinking in that way?

"You're not too late. Well, you're never late, really. Just in time, like always." Kazuto is talking now, interrupting his train of thought. Better than whatever he has seen from other, at least.

His eyes go from his neck, down to the point where his tank shirt exposes his chest. There are small drops of sweat that fall down his torso. A natural smell, like the one an athlete leaves when they exercise, gets to him.

Darius stops for a moment. Then, he enters once Kazuto is back to the living room, where the furniture is moved around in order to make space, and his cellphone stands on top of a pile of books, as he's touching the screen.

When he gets to the living room, he catches sight of a cake in a transparent platter. One that wasn't there in the last few times he's gone there.

"Can I have some? After this, I mean."

"Maybe," Kazuto moves towards the fridge, almost recognizing his own hunger thanks to that comment, "but I would reccomend you this one. I... I made the other one, but I'm not as— not as proud, really."

He walks the remaining space between them, having the bar as separation. Darius leans on top of the bar, shoulders resting on it, as he eyes the chocolate cake. Kazuto is holding a hand on the back of his neck.

"It looks good. Don't see many mistakes with the frosting."

"I hope it tastes as good as it looks." Kazuto seems to take it in stride, if the smile he gives while looking away is something to go by.

"It's for your sister, right?" Darius tries to pry a bit of information. Maybe he can understand something about the two of them this way. 

If the form those two speak to each other doesn't say much about their relationship.

"Her birthday, actually. It's why—"

"It's why she's not here? Huh..." Darius shrugs after that. "You could have told me earlier. Besides, aren't you supposed to be dressing up and leaving somewhere else? You know, a heavy party is gonna happen here, so that means..."

"A lot of hot girls, guys, booze or whatever, right?" Kazuto interrupts him, with what is a pretty accurate summary of everything in parties. Well, half-accurate. Most guys tend to be average, with a few outstanding qualities. But a fair assessment otherwise. "Don't think that's gonna happen today."

"Why not? She doesn't seem the introvert type."

Kazuto laughs, more to himself than at Darius's answer. Darius's tail flicks to the side as Kazuto cuts a piece of another chocolate cake, but different in presentation. The one in the platter seems immaculate, almost untouchable. But, this one in particular, looks like a homemade meal, and it smells like one. 

Best part of this? Kazuto's smile. Darius doesn't know why, but the boy seems brighter when he's doing something for (or with) him. He could attribute it to many factors, but there's something else at play.

"The truth is more complex than that, actually." Kazuto ends up with two plates and spoons, one for each. He gives one to Darius and places the other one in front of his own. "Rose is social, but... Uh, I don't know how to put it, so I'll just word vomit until something cool and mysterious comes out of my mouth, okay?"

And there he is, a crack in the mask, Darius thinks. This is more Kazuto than the way he shows himself to others. Darius smirks at this.

"Go ahead." He eats a bite out of his cake, and watches Kazuto eat a bigger one. Both of them end up looking at each other's eyes, only for Kazuto to react by averting his gaze. 

He had a good chance to tell him something lewd, and yet, he didn't.

Might be better to give him a break from their usual talk. It's always the same, Kazuto makes a threat that won't go anywhere (not in his nature, unless pushed in the right spots), Darius makes a lewd remark at that, then Kazuto gives up and calls him incorrigible. That's... a fair assessment of their dynamic.

But something's changing, actually. How Kazuto's gaze remains for longer than usual, and Darius starts to see things that remind him of Kazuto's words (like the one time Darius quoted a meme in front of Azaghal, who really didn't know what that meant. He had to explain what _stan Dreamcatcher_ meant. Not fun times).

Kazuto clears his throat, his cheeks starting to color.

"Anyways. She's trying to put a wall between the life she has in here, and the one she leads outside. It's not that she's... different, but rather, she just puts masks around people. With me, and I think you, sometimes, she drops everything."

"Does that have to do with the house life?"

Kazuto places a finger on top of his mouth.

"Maybe. It's more about being _at home_ than about being in the house. I— well, I can't speak for her, but she's, she's definitely more comfortable when it's just the three of us. Or when she's with me. Like she's not pretending to be anyone else."

Darius ends up voicing his thoughts.

"But why would people do that, though? Why lie to each other?"

It's a question that he's been asking himself for a while. Something that Kazuto seems to have an answer for.

"I think it's more about showing a side of you to other people. There's, there's not enough trust when you've been hurt before." Kazuto's tells are hard to pinpoint, when Darius hears him open up, it's always with the tone of his voice. Low enough that he's aware no one will catch him. Darius (whether consciously or subconsciously) imitates his hand on mouth pose, mirroring him. "It's also, like, different people require different stuff. You can't show that nerdy side of yours to all of your hook-ups, for example."

"Wait, I've never said—"

"I noticed how you look at the Entendo Swap in my room, Darius. Really." Kazuto smiles at him, and for some reason, Darius feels warmer. Definitely the heat in the room. "It's fine to be nerdy. We all are, to some extent."

"Yeah... I, I guess it kinda has to do with—"

"With protecting yourself." Kazuto ends that thread, grabbing another bite.

"Okay, protecting yourself, but, from what, or who?"

There's a brief silence as Kazuto stares right at his eyes, and he can feel how the air is tense. Even more tense than usual, like the moment someone in those romantic dramas Rose watches, just right before a big revelation happens, a silence like this occurs.

"Being hurt, I guess. You develop this shell to protect yourself from mockery." Kazuto lowers his gaze as he admits this. "Like an armor."

And Darius doesn't know why, he can't quite place his finger on what it is, but he's feeling the same thing. As if he were empty. Hollow. This shouldn't be the thing he's feeling, and yet, it's more than what he feels with other guys. Ironic, isn't it? How in dramas it's always _there's something about him, something about her_ , that's vaguely defined and nebulous. Amorphous.

* * *

__

_[Kaz]: Go ahead and chOKE, DaRIuS._

_[Darius]: i woukdnt mind being choked by those thicgs of yours._

_[Kaz]: >:/_

_[Kaz]: you're completely hopeless, you know?_

_[Darius]: I know. But you love me like this ;)_

_[Kaz]: ..._

__

* * *

Is he a good man, after the things he has done? Even if the boy agrees, what’s the point, if it feels so empty? It’s an answer that Darius tries to evade. But no one can hide from the truth, and he’s not above the truth. Or the ways this world works. No matter the money. He’s reeling from the aftermath, when Kazuto is asleep, one of the few times he know the boy rests without any irregular situations. Like a bird whose wings are cut down and thrown to the floor, he can only stop screaming when there’s silence outside. There’s a storm inside Kazuto. White noise, that pulls Darius towards the boy he’s holding.

Everything in this room is blue, with little splashes of red and black. Contrast. Blue and white for the room, red and black for the person who lives in here.  
Darius reaches out, and places a hand on top of Kazuto’s back. It’s rougher than the rest of his skin, jagged lines going all the way to his ass, some of them looking bigger than any simple cut, as if the person responsible for this decided for whipping him into shape. A somewhat dazed, perpetually scared child. Afraid of the dark, and afraid of his mind.

He’s reeling from the aftermath, when Kazuto showed a part of him. The way the bird is still screaming, even when it’s silent outside. How his mouth changes shape after he says something he considers inappropriate. How his hands tremble when Darius touches his chest, as if Kazuto expected to be hit. Something’s always up with him, in more ways than one. Even as both hearts beat at the same rhythm, he can’t find it in him to understand why Kazuto, of all people.

If he’s that damaged, then what does that mean for him? For them, he corrects himself.

There’s someone else, too. Is this compensation, for what life has given, or rather, taken away from him?

“Father.” Kazuto mumbles in his sleep, a hand that reaches out towards his right. And it feels so empty, and painful, to accept that hand. He shouldn’t be here. Not when there’s a knot in his stomach that tells him to run away, that tells him this is all wrong and he doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s too close to him, now. And all Darius wants is to run away.

And yet, his own voice betrays him, because he can’t stand it. This is just too pitiful.

“I’m here.” 

Darius’s hands touch Kazuto’s body, pulling him closer to him, to feel the heat and stave off the cold inside of him. How their hands intertwine and fit. Like it’s all supposed to be this way.   
But if it has to be like this, then why does he feel like he wants everyone out?

He’s still alive, breathing. He’s not suffering from anything that he knows. He just fucked with Kazuto, for God’s sake. He’s supposed to be on top of the world, thanks to him. Both of them were horny, of course. But just because they were horny doesn’t (or rather, it means precisely that, but whoever wants to know more about that can’t know in the first place) mean anything in the end. And yet.

And yet. He’s here. Something’s up with him, and how he replies to all of this. 

“Go back to sleep, son. It’s dark outside.” He keeps the façade, like they’re playing house. “I’m here, you know? I’m here.”

This mask, what does Darius want with it? Playing father for someone else, what's the point of it?

“I don’t want you to go.” It sounds even more real coming out of him, when it’s not like this. In a different world, the two of them would be sitting opposite to each other, as if none of this happened before. But it’s not that world, it’s the one where they seem to gravitate towards each other.

And it’s a conscious decision, in Darius’s mind. How he starts to think back to the boy who takes everything he says at face value, and manages to keep up, sometimes, when Darius lets him do it, with his own innuendo. In a way, he’s…

“Why do I feel like I can stay here, even if it’s not my home?” He makes this question, and leaves it up to no one in particular. 

Kazuto and Rose have a different dynamic than him with his siblings, Darius notes. Rose nags him, but realizes that she was a teen not too long ago, and lets Kazuto loosen up. Kazuto wants to have fun, and pushes forward, keeps pushing until she relents, if only for a second. Kazuto takes care of her, in the small ways (that lunchbox he saw the time when she had bags under her eyes, as she studied for the finals, that small blue blanket she brings over when everything hits too close to home).

It’s─It’s definitely something new for him. How the two of them take care of their wounds, with Rose’s too flat steps, and Kazuto’s second-long reactions of uncertainty.

From what sort of hell did they come from?

He wonders if this alliance is born out of necessity, and if they’re that close thanks to a hellish experience.

“This is your home, Darius. You should know that.” A voice that he doesn’t expect to hear at this time. Darius jolts awake, with a still sleeping Kazuto next to him.  
It’s Rose, disheveled and sleepless. Right in front of him, as she watches the two of them in that position.

Darius's heart goes all the way to his throat, right now.

"I should—" Darius is already getting up and grabbing every one of his clothes.

"Don't. We can speak about this." When her eyes focus on Kazuto's body on the bed, sleeping peacefully, in a way that's out of the ordinary, too. Judging by her relaxed stance. "I see that you're having an effect on him. I'm glad."

"Yeah... Uh—" Darius is aware of his state of nudity. He's looking back at Rose, who hands him back his underwear. The same thong he always uses for things like this.

"Find me in the kitchen. As for Kazuto," she tells him in a flat voice, like his brother does when speaking of trivial stuff, "he'll have a talk with me in the morning."

When Darius is already done with that, and having his shorts on (the shirt is all the way back to the bathroom, and if she has seen Kazuto naked, enough times to not even flinch when seeing him like this, then he's sure that she won't mind his half-naked state), he walks up to her, and when they're out of the room, he speaks again, voice cracking thanks to the nerves.

"You're still working on that assignment by Grifter? We don't really need the—"

"Nah, we already passed. That's what I know, at least. And I'm doing the extra credits to keep my scholarship with good GPA and stuff. Not because I want to."

"Huh..."

"Still, you should be doing a bit better." Rose muses, her head tipping upwards for a bit. "Don't you think we should keep doing group assignments until this semester ends?"

"Ah, I guess... Might be the best chance to do so."

When Rose smiles, Darius feels a bit better about everything, even if who's inside the bedroom he left a few moments ago still haunts part of his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?  
> Prayers?  
> Comments?  
> Kudos?  
> Praise that might boost the writer's ego?
> 
> I'm glad that you decided to read until this point, and I hope you stay tuned for the next chapter.


	12. from himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darius and Rose talk. Kazuto makes a mistake and Dozer dreams of something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do I make any sense with this? no. of course not. do I still keep writing? yeah, let me make this dubious consent thing. Read the tags y'all.

"I want him to be alright, and I don't know if you're capable of protecting him."

"Protect him from what?"

"From himself." Rose's eyes seem older now, like she's not a twenty-one years old woman, but a mother. It's that sort of wisdom that taking care of others gives you. "If Kazuto ever lashes out, the damage is going to be catastrophic, and you'll end up hurt, yeah, but it's right at the end when Kazuto ends up hurting himself the most. If you can't deal with that, then, I don't know what to say but sorry."

* * *

Dozer lies awake. Reading, surprisingly. It's been three hours since Kazuto sent him the link, and Dozer's been reading all of the stories available. There's been a short novel about Crime and Punishment, the drama that he's been watching. Apparently the detectives were now running a coffee shop, and solving mysteries on the side.

That wasn't exactly to his taste, but he's happy that something about the show is still there. The cases seem interesting enough, and the clues are left out in the open. 

It's addicting, how the world just catches him in, and makes him read more, if only to know what's going to happen next.

If only he could see the next chapter. But he can't. He has, he needs to sleep. Otherwise, his body will hate him for this. And yet. And yet, here he is, resisting. It's even more painful now that the last chapter ended in a cliffhanger.

The temptation of one more chapter is getting to him as he closes the laptop. He resists.

Dozer writes one last message, as the ink of Kazuto's previous ones disappear. He traces with his fingers the words, those little ghosts that feel more sincere than most of the things other people say. Like a conversation that feels incomplete, but only because both of them are holding back so much, it would overflow if they were to let it out. So they write back to each other, with messages telling themselves stories, small bits and pieces, and those are the only chapters in their lives, that are worth keeping.

**I hope you're okay. Don't hesitate to come tomorrow if you want. I'll be here after it's two.**

He closes his eyes, hugging the pillow next to him, and imagining that it's warmer, Kazuto's body in between his arms.

But the image changes into something different. This time, there are no clothes on them, and they're not asleep, but looking at each other. Dozer's hand goes downwards, as if trying to touch somewhere else. He's holding Kazuto close to himself, while thrusting inside him. 

The little gasps when he's moving turn into background noise, as Dozer leans closer to Kazuto's ear and whispers, fully intending to tease him, mock him, hold him.

He's so soft, the way Kazuto's skin feels under his fingers, as he goes from his torso, with well-defined abs that he's clenching in order to touch them. They're now harder than before, and he hears Kazuto's laugh, breathy, trying to recover his normal rate.

It stays with him for the rest of the night, how the two of them fuck, telling each other words of affirmation, and love. The words have a deeper effect, as Dozer wakes up the next morning dazed and well-rested, in a way that's never happened for him.

If only that image could stay with him for longer.

* * *

This is all Kazuto wants, really. An afternoon at Dozer's, his laptop in the bag, and the chance to spend time away from all the high school drama that seems to follow him wherever he goes.

It's always the same. If Harry and Janet broke up, and then she ended up kissing Hannah on the mouth (why would she do that? Does she know that Hannah _already_ has a soulmate? Is she looking to die?), only for Sophie to interrupt the kiss and fistfight Janet until the two of them had to be taken to the hospital. 

Yeah, that's normal. Very normal, indeed. If his idea of normal is that, of course.

But, he's making a point of abandoning drama in high school. Not rehashing stuff from minutes ago. Still, the thrill of seeing Sophie fight is still in his body, flowing through his bloodstream like oxygen would. It was still, by that point, so cool.

Anyways, the door. He knocks on it. Three times. And waits.

Because there's nothing better to do than that, actually. Just because he's unable to really look at people in the eye doesn't mean that he's rude. Two different things. And people will learn. He'll make it their problem.

But, as the door opens, he figures that it'll come at another time. 

He wants to put this moment first.

* * *

"I'm glad that you're here." Dozer's hand reaches out to pet Kazuto's head. And Kazuto leans into Dozer's hand, as if trying to soak up every little ounce of affection from him. It makes him smile, and yet, it goes away a bit too soon. He forces himself to say it, if only to look less suspicious. "It makes this place a little bit lonely."

"Thanks." Kazuto's breathing is slow, deliberate. A sigh, coming from Dozer. Is his hand still touching Kazuto, like it should be? Rubbing circles around his back, where he feels a lot of tension underneath his muscles? Dozer doesn't understand why that happens. Kazuto is unaware, whether by force of will or because of his own nature, he can't tell. "I wanted to spend time with you, so this works for me."

Kazuto's silent. Dozer moves his arm behind Kazuto's body, letting him rest on him. It feels soft to the touch, like he's being hugged in return. The TV in Dozer's living room is still on, playing a rerun of Crime and Punishment. The same drama that he watches every Thursday, after he's done with exercising. 

"I know. But still, there's no shame in admitting it's a bit boring around here." 

Kazuto looks up, and it melts him to see how he reacts to his own self-deprecation speaking for him like it shouldn't be, but there's a filter in his brain hat decides to shred everything even remotely honest, and Dozer's brain stops that from happening.

"What if it isn't? What if... there's value in doing things like this?"

"Like what? These things?" Dozer can't gauge exactly how Kazuto reacts to things. It's sometimes like he's playing with his cards too close to his heart, and he won't show him what they are.

He's always avoiding his gaze, whether by choice of by discomfort. Most of the time, his voice stays level, as if he were unaffected by things. Are they a symptom, or a side effect of his experiences?

"The small things, if you will. They're... They're nice to have. Makes things feel more, more authentic. Like I'm getting to know you."

It feels like a bold lie when he says it. He knows little about him. Apart from the fact that he's engaging with art, he knows next to nothing about him. What he wants, what he hates, what's making him closed off like the rest of the world. Those things, the things he needs to understand, if only to get a clear picture of Kazuto in his most Kazuto moments.

It's obvious that he's been hurt before (he can infer from that, but there's nothing that he can do to, to _make_ him spit it out), and he's protecting himself, deflecting from what's true. Even if it were true, there's not an ounce of vulnerability in him. Like it doesn't hurt anymore. 

He saw it once, when the two of them spoke over the phone, but it doesn't feel like that Kazuto is coming back soon, or anytime, for that matter. What could have happened, in order to push himself away like that? He sees when Kazuto's putting a hand over his neck, covering something. 

Dozer wants to pry, like it's something that should be known. 

Does he suffer inside, and let things simmer in order to explode when the words start to come out of him, as if they were water when the dam's broken? Is he capable of feeling hurt? Does he feel vulnerable?

He doesn't feel that hurt, but it bothers him. A buzzing sound that makes him feel that everything is an alarm, and yet, he's trying to shut up for the sake of the two of them. 

But he can't contain himself. Honesty is part of his nature, after all.

"I wanted to ask something, just, just to know your answer."

Kazuto perks up at this, and it's the most alarmed he's ever been before. Like he's already catching up. Good for him. He needs to know this, there's not a chance he'll ever back down from a question.

"Yeah? Are you alright?" Kazuto's hands reach out to him, as if trying to calm him down. But that's idiotic. Dozer's not angry, but he's a annoyed by this game.

The one where Kazuto speaks and doesn't feel what he's saying, acting like he's out of his own body, and Dozer shows everything, leaves his heart for him to watch, and his reaction is just to poke and prod, in order to see (and know for himself) how it works and the way blood flows.

"I am. But... Are you okay? Actually, really okay?"

A small silence stretches time until it stops being meaningful. Like it's just gone for both.

"What do you mean by that? I'm fine. As I can be, of course. Nothing wrong with me."

"You're, you're misunderstanding." Dozer plays with his fingers. Then, he grabs the hand that's touching his shoulder. "I want to know if you feel what you, what you say. If you're vulnerable."

Kazuto's not talking. Purses his lips. Looks away, as if burnt by the question, like most of the times he's touching a nerve. Asking for clarification and guessing his reactions is one of the few things he's learning now. Just now.

"You mean, if I... If I'm being honest? Right?" Kazuto frowns for a second, then, his expression changes, becomes darker. "I don't like that. Hate being open."

"But you want to know about everyone, don't you?" Dozer mirrors Kazuto's expression. "This is a two-way street, Kazuto. I can't keep giving my own information away if I can't know more about you. You're not being candid with me, that's what I can tell from your reaction."

Kazuto wants to say something, but he stops. Opens his mouth, then closes it when he realizes the futility of his own words. Dozer starts to feel angry, but not at him. Rather, at whoever made him like this. To censor yourself is to deny your own feelings and your own existence.

Dozer grabs Kazuto's body, from the hand to his torso, and sits him on his lap. They're both looking at each other's faces, their heads inches away. He can smell Kazuto's scent (a perfume that's cheap, and sweat from the running he did in order to get here), and how his breath is just too close, too tempting for him. The ink on his hand, the spiral, made out of black ink, for him, only for him. He wants to forget, sometimes, that Darius is not Kazuto's soulmate, that he's just Dozer's. 

The selfishness of that scares him. He wants to throw the thought away.

Kazuto struggles under him, as if he were trying to run away from that. Dozer keeps him in place. One hand on his left cheek, another one on his hips.

"I need you to tell me. What's causing this? If you're performing, what's the reason why? If it hurts, can I make it feel better?"

Kazuto's expression is full of sadness and urgency. His eyes shift from place to place, never settling for a spot in particular. He feels Kazuto pushing away his body.

"Too close, just, too close, I... I need space, Dozer, please."

It's almost easy, but he doesn't relent.

"I'll give it to you once you tell me. It's all I'm asking for."

Dozer gets closer, the idea that this is uncomfortable and heavy for Kazuto is just too far away. A dark fog settles in Dozer's brain. Looking for a reason why is more important.

"I'll tell you! Just, just give me space, please!" He's fighting even harder, and Dozer lets go. Kazuto falls to the floor, now more aware of how dangerous and awful this is becoming. 

Kazuto. He's been... He's been hurting him, not just poking at a wound? That's what he's doing, right?

The need to go towards him and sit down in front of Kazuto is overwhelming, but he resists. There's no way he'll accept that, not now, at least. Pushing boundaries... Who is he, Darius?

Kazuto's panting, and he's hiding behind his hair in order to avoid looking at him.

"My mother... She, uh, made me— made me like this. You can, you can trace it back to her." Once he's calmer, he's leering at him, two tears falling down his face to the floor. "Satisfied?"

He doesn't miss the way his words are full of venom and anger. 

"Sorry—"

"Sit down. Dozer." When Kazuto composes himself, it's not a good signal, how his eyes are full of fire. "You'll do what I want, as an apology? Is that, is that fine?"

Dozer nods. He could overpower him, but it's in his eyes, in the way he's holding him down on the couch, that's surprising him. Like he's about to sell his soul to the devil. 

The worst thing, Dozer's willing to do so, if only to satiate his own urges. It's a hesitant step forward, but Kazuto ends up taking charge of it, by kissing Dozer with as much strength as he can, forcing him down to the couch.


End file.
